Sweet Silesia
by advidartist
Summary: A happy marriage spurred from elopement, a jealous ex-lover seeking his revenge, and a young girl caught between the two. As war draws near lovers will feud and hearts will be broken, only to find them buried in sweet Silesia. SlightAU 18th cent PruHunAus
1. Chapter 1

_**Sweet Silesia**_

**Chapter One**

The bed sheets rustled as she fidgeted in her bed, her body slowly waking from its slumber. Her eyes flickered open, only to be greeted by the bright morning sunlight. Birds chirped happily outside as they greeted the new sunrise.

"Go back to sleep you stupid lark," she almost snapped, turning her head away from the window. The laundry of the bedding and the musky scent of the man next to her invaded her nostrils as she buried her face in the sheets, hiding herself from the daybreak.

She dosed peacefully for a few more moments, only to be awakened by the weight of the bed shifting next to her as her husband rolled onto his side, apparently now awake. His hands caressed the curves of her body as his warm breath tickled her cheek.

"Since when did mornings become so horrible?" he whispered in her ear.

"Since I've been sleepy," she grumbled into the sheets.

She heard him snicker as the proximities between their bodies closed.

She squealed in surprise as he centered his weight on top of her, entering her with pleasurable slowness allowing warm waves to cascade across her form. Loving whispers fell from her pink lips as he began to ride her, her legs wrapped around his torso. Their hips moved together in perfect unison as they became one again and again. Her back arched as she released ecstatic moans, her body twichtting in satisfaction as she came for him. He ran his hands across her soft form, kissing her passionately as they made love in the morning sunlight. His seed spilled into her as he collapsed on top of her body.

"I love you Elizaveta," he whispered into her neck.

"I love you too Gilbert," she whispered back. "Thanks for waking me up."

She jumped when a pillow soon met her face as she listened to Gilbert's classic snicker of a laugh. Slowly lifting the cushion from her face she glared at him, only to return the pillow to him with a big whack to his head.

He grabbed it from her and tackled her, ensuing a mixture of a wrestling match and a pillow fight, conjuring laughs from both parties. The sheets rustled, bed springs squeaked, and feathers flew everywhere.

A simple knock on the bedroom door brought an end to their morning tryst. The wood echoing throughout the room like a deep bell, signifying the end of playtime.

"Mr Beilschmidt," the maid's voice timidly called, having heard the noises emitting from the couples room. "A messenger has come with the weeks mail, he insists it only be put in the hands of the master of the house."

"Give him some coffee Hilga, I'll be down in a few minutes," Gilbert responded, hesitantly standing from the bed to get dressed and head downstairs. Yet Eliaveta's arms circled his neck, keeping him near the edge of the bed. "Can't we just stay like this forever, Gil. No other life but you and me, no messengers, no other world. Just us," she whispered into his neck, nipping at his ear.

He turned around and took her in his arms, holding her close. "Don't we already? I already see it, the only thing missing is your smile from what I can tell," he said planting a kiss on her lips, which a smile had just sprouted from. One of his hands wandered down to the small taut bump that was her belly, that was currently teeming with a new life form.

He forced himself to push away and get dressed, knowing these messengers could be impatient when it came to their schedule. Walking across the bare wooden floor he quickly dressed himself and left the room just as he was throwing on his vest and running a hand through his messy hair.

His boots clattered against the wooden steps as he descended into the simple foyer of his home, all constructed out of simple dark wood, basic yet sparse furniture, a simple rug, and the walls bare occasionally decorated with a trophy of stag antlers. The messenger Hilga told him about, was standing by the doorway, she never mentioned he was an army messenger. The blue brocade of his jacket and hat informed him of this. The soldier saluted him as he approached.

"What news do you bring?" Gilbert asked, straitening his posture. A habit that came with his years of military service.

"I bring news from General Fitzwilliam, who sends his regards and his congratulations to your family and requests that you report to him at the capital before the end of the month, he must speak to you concerning issues of national defense and security," he said in a strict manner with a deep baritone voice.

"Anything else?"

"Your news and mail, sir" said the soldier procuring a package of documents and papers.

Gilbert took the package, paid him his dues, and the man departed in haste, just as Hilga entered with a tray carrying a coffee pot and cup.

"Don't tell me he left already," she said just as Gilbert closed the front door. "All this good coffee gone to waste, what a shame."

"You can put it on the table Hilga, I think we'll enjoy it with breakfast this morning," he said calmly, fingering the bindings of the package as the maid hurried away on her arthritic limbs.

Gilbert stared down at the number of pamphlets in his hands, trying to measure the amount of work he had ahead of him. This amount of work would measure out to be the same amount of time he would rather spend out in the woods hunting or in bed with his wife. But yet a living had to be made and despite what his military acquaintances thought he lived very simply, just within the boundaries of his means.

He let a sigh escape his lips as he heard the rest of the house slowly awakening. The clattering of dishes from the kitchen where Hilga worked, the closing and opening of doors as the snapped in and out of their latches, Elizaveta's skirts tickling the floors as she made her way out of their bedroom, and the pounding footsteps of his younger brother as he began his morning.

Another day.

()()()()()()()()()

Ludwig sat in a chair by the window, his nose buried in a book as the morning sunlight streamed in around him. Elizaveta sat at the table, nibbling on a piece of toast as she sipped her coffee. "Don't you want anything to eat Ludwig?" she asked, staring at him.

"I'm not hungry," he said bluntly.

"Are you sure?"

"Ja."

"Really Ludwig?" she continued, being persistent.

Ludwig sighed, annoyed, not lifting his eyes from the book he read.

Gilbert chuckled.

"Whats so funny?" Elizaveta asked, turning her focus to Gilbert, who sat next to her at the table.

"Your not even half-way through your pregnancy and your already acting like a mother," Gilbert responded.

"I am?" she questioned with slight bewilderment.

"Ja," he replied in the same fashion as Ludwig, only with more casual lightheartedness.

Elizaveta sighed. "So what did the messenger say?"

"Just some military news," he replied munching on his toast.

"Which was?"

"That I'll be needed in Berlin sometime this month, he wasn't that specific. Oh and Fitz sends his congratulations."

Her hands wandered to the small swell of her stomach. "We haven't told anyone yet. How did he find out?"

"Like I've told you before Ellie, the man is a god. Nothing gets past him."

"I know Gil, but still its rather disturbing how much he knows about his officers…and their wives."

"Maybe its cause he doesn't know his at all." Gilbert said with a small chuckle as he sipped at his coffee. Lowering the mug from his face he noticed the most recent newspaper sticking out from the package of pamphlets and letters that he had yet to go through.

"Hey Ludwig, care to read the paper for me?" Gilbert exclaimed, holding it up to Ludwig tauntingly. Ludwig instantly snapped his book shut, strolled over to the table and snatched the newspaper from Gilbert's grasp as he took his place at the table, tearing through the paper eagerly.

The couple exchanged glances. Gilbert grinned at his wife with a look that read, "Thats how you get him to sit at the table." Elizaveta could only roll her eyes.

The printed paper rustled as Ludwig tore through it. "You guys know Mr. Edelstein, right?"

Elizaveta's emerald eyes became downcast and Gilbert's grip on his coffee cup tightened. "Unfortunately," he responded curtly.

"Apparently his company is on the verge of declaring bankruptcy and he's currently searching for other sorts of funding so 'the board can continue to tread water', as the reporter puts it," explained Ludwig as he continued reading.

"I find that hard to believe," exclaimed Elizaveta.

"Whys that Ellie?" Gilbert questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"He was always so careful with his money, never spent a penny without good reason. I'd say he's just about as frugal as the Swiss are. It doesn't sound like him to declare bankruptcy."

"Things change Ellie, neither of us have seen him in years. Who knows what he's been up to or gotten involved in since then. He probably had it coming as far as I'm concerned," Gilbert said, failing to hide the strong dismay in his voice.

It was then Ludwig finally looked up from his readings. "Why don't you like him bruder?" he asked, his blue eyes wide with curiosity.

"I have my reasons," he said, unknowingly fisting his hand that sat on the table, which Elizaveta took into her hands.

"I used to work for him," she began. "Gil wasn't fond of the way he treated me. I had no problem with it, I actually didn't notice it till he pointed it out, but it wasn't to big of a deal."

"He looked at you as if you where a possession Ellie, as if you belonged to him. Besides thats not the only thing I have against him, theres also a lifetime of quarrels and disagreements that are one too many to mention," he explained, feeling the metal of Elizaveta's wedding ring press against the flesh of his hand.

'Relax,' he told himself. 'She's not Roderich's, she's yours.'

Elizaveta gently stroked his fist with her thumb, until he relaxed and intertwined his fingers with hers. He raised his gaze to find a gentle smile on her lips and his years of pent up anger slip away.

Ludwig turned back to his reading, his eyes dancing across the page as the blue orbs darted back and forth at lightening speed.

"Did the messenger say anything about sightings of Austrian soldiers?" Ludwig asked several minutes later, just as the coffee cups where nearing their final drops.

"He did mention defense and security, but this is the first I'm hearing about it," Gilbert replied.

"Apparently there have been several sightings not far from here, one witness says that it appeared as if they where just scouting in search of something," Ludwig read from the paper.

"What on earth would the Austrians want in Prussia?" Elizaveta asked.

"I could ask the same question, maybe thats what Fritz wanted to speak to me about," said Gilbert scratching his chin in thought.

"When do you plan to leave for Berlin?" Elizaveta asked, as she watched the seven year old blonde gaze at his older brother, wanting to know the same answer as her.

"I was going to wait till the end of the month, as I always do. But I think the end of this week would be the best thing to do now."

"Lets hope that its not a serious as we think it is."

()()()()()()()

Elizaveta dusted the dirt from her hands on her apron before wiping the sweat from her brow. Pushing away the loose hairs that had escaped the confines of her bandana she continued pulling the weeds from the garden, letting the hot summer sun beat down on her back. The occasional cool breeze brought slight relief from the heat.

"Do you need any help Elizaveta?" Hilga called out to her, pausing in her laundry work as she scrubbed the various garments.

"I'm fine Hilga, but thank you," she said honestly. Hilga had made it a habit of asking her that question for the past few months. At first it was thoughtful, but it had now become annoying. She may be pregnant but she wasn't a cripple.

She always enjoyed being outside. Breathing in the fresh air under the sun, and listening to the whispers of the trees as their leafy branches danced in the wind. But for some reason, she couldn't enjoy it as much as she used to. Gilbert had left for Berlin five days ago. It was common for him to be gone for a week or more when these occasions arose, but with the continued whispers of soldiers sneaking through the woods she became more anxious with every passing day. While Gilbert had taught her how to use a rifle and wield a sword, she still felt safer whenever he was near and she looked forward to his return.

As she finished weeding the garden she plucked a ruby red berry from its bush and popped it into her mouth, savoring the sweetness of its fresh juices. One by one she plucked the berries gathering them in a small basket. Flicking the dirt from her skirts she stood from the ground, basket in hands as she made her way inside. She stopped in the doorframe as a red shadow caught her eye.

The house was hidden deep within the woods of Prussia, surrounded by a thick and lush green forest. A bright red military jacket amongst the greenery, would stick out like a sore thumb. Elizaveta stared, probably longer then she should have at the figure, trying to recall its familiarity. When she recognized it as an Austrian soldier her stomach dropped.

She hastily entered the house and set the berries aside.

"Hilga could you come help me for a moment?" she called back out to the old maid, whose arms where soaked with watery suds.

Hilga obeyed and the very second she stepped inside the house. Elizaveta slammed the door shut and locked it behind her.

"My goodness whats gotten into you girl?" Hilga said confounded at her actions.

"I saw a soldier at the edge of the forest!"

"Why on earth would a soldier be here?" Hilga asked, unsure of what to think about the fear that had overtaken her mistress in those few seconds.

"I don't know and I don't want to find out, I just want Gil to come home soon," she paused to take a breath. "Could you make sure that Ludwig is inside and that all the doors are locked."

Hilga nodded and scurried off, not wanting to find out either.

The next half hour flew by in a rush as the members of the household dashed around the the floors locking, securing, and double checking every single door, window, and opening the house possessed. Eventually the frenzy died down and silence ensued. There was nothing to do now but wait.

()()()()()()()

For the next three days it rained and the greenery surrounding the house remained silent. Its three occupants went about their days as they normally would, only on tiptoes and wary of every sound that would occur. Elizaveta couldn't help but push aside the curtains every so often and gaze out onto the front yard of the house. Her eyes often saw nothing except the typical wildlife of woodland creatures, but yet she couldn't bring herself to ignore the dismal emotion of foreboding that sat in the pit of her stomach like a heavy weight.

The rained continued to pour in thick heavy drops on the evening of the third day. Thunder crashed and boomed outside in the dark gray sky, that sat on top of the trees like a thick blanket. The branches of the trees twirled and shook as if in pain from the great force of wind that constantly roared across the usually peaceful landscape.

The three sat in the dining room at the table. The tea had long since grown cold and they took to passing the time with a few card games. Elizaveta soon gave up and took to watching Hilga and Ludwig play, sitting back in her chair with a simple shawl draped over her shoulders and long golden-brown locks loose from its bandana and bindings. Thunder would occasionally boom, shaking the whole house and vibrating the window panes, causing all three to jump in their seats.

As twilight neared one large sound of thunder came, and again and again and again, like a steady drumbeat. As the fifth deep pulse resonated throughout the house they realized that it was no thunder, but someone banging at their front door. Elizaveta timidly stood up and made her way towards the house's foyer, but not before retrieving the small handgun Gilbert kept hidden behind a small wall panel. The other two remained where they sat at the table, their playing cards frozen in their hands.

She cautiously entered the foyer, hiding amongst the shadows of the dark home, her eyes fixed on the front entrance. Slowly she clicked the safety off and pointed it at the door, waiting for whoever it was to enter.

The doors abruptly swung open and the storm's elements of wind and water poured into the foyer, soaking the carpet and floor while blowing loose articles array. A dark clad figure entered, fighting the wind and elements to close the door behind him. The black cloak he wore dripped with water and his worn leather boots where caked with mud.

The man removed his cloak and hung it on the coat rack, his form weary with exhaustion from travel. Upon seeing the pale skin and hair, Elizaveta set the gun aside, she wouldn't need it anymore. Gilbert was home.

()()()()()()()()

"So your absolutely certain it was an Austrian soldier you saw?" Gilbert asked once more as they lay curled up together in their bed, the gentle warmth of the candlelight surrounding them.

"Yes Gil, I am absolutely certain. I know what I saw. I spent many years in Austria, I think I would know one when I saw one," she said, reassuring him, her head buried in his chest.

"A regiment will be arriving here in a few days to patrol this region. We'll sort it out when they get here," he said through tired eyes as his head fell back against his pillow.

Elizaveta couldn't help but agree with him as her own eyelids grew heavy. Reaching over to the bedside table she blew out the sole candle that lit the room, before curling back up next to her husband.

She had only closed her eyes for a few moments when she heard Gilbert whisper, "I dreamt of you the other night Ellie."

"uh-huh."

"It was us, right before I helped you flee from his estate. Yet…in the dream…you wanted to stay."

Elizaveta listened to the gentle beating of his heart as he continued. "If I never asked you to run away with me, would you have stayed? Did you want to stay?"

"Of course I wanted to leave. I wasn't the only one who wanted to stretch my legs, see the world, live a different life. I wouldn't have said yes if I didn't want to leave Gil, I wouldn't have said anything at all if I didn't love you."

She felt Gilbert's hand in her hair and his lips on hers, just as they both drifted off together into the peaceful oblivion of sleep.

()()()()()

The storm had soon quieted down and the silence of the night cradled the small home and its occupants in a delicate web. Crickets and nightingales sang softly, harmonizing the simple lullaby of the night.

The peaceful silence was soon shattered as a roaring bob of equine flesh pounded their hooves against the dirt road as they made their way through the forest and surrounded the house. Deep neighs and whinnies escaped their throats as their riders harshly pulled back on their reins, making them skid on their hooves to a stop, kicking up dust in the process.

Jet black leather boots dashed across the ground, keeping themselves within the shadows as they pooled beneath the wood of the front door, pounding the butts of their muskets against the frame, denting and splitting the thick wood.

The door banged open, shaking it on its hinges as the red coated soldiers pooled inside, spreading throughout the house like wildfire.

Elizaveta stirred in her sleep from the loud ruckus that sounded from down below, but paid it no mind and curled up closer to Gilbert. Yet it only took a few seconds for the door to their bedroom to burst open and the fire to engulf them. Within moments her eyes where wide with horror as she felt the gruff hands of soldiers grasping her body, pulling her from her bed.

"Gil!" she cried out in horror, as she was ripped from the safety of his side.

Gilbert was still half asleep when he was pulled from his bed and dropped unceremoniously onto the floor, his face painfully smacking against the floorboards as the bones in his nose cracked.

He heard Elizaveta cry as he was hauled to his feet and hustled away from her. Looking back at her he saw tears in her eyes as she reached out for him.

That was his last he saw of her before his precious Ellie disappeared from view.

()()()()()()

"You have blood on your face," he greeted, entering the dining room with his nose in the air.

Gilbert looked up from where he sat at the table, his body heavy with sleep and shame of defeat. A trail of red blood had traced its way from his nostril to the corners of his lips. The metallic taste now coated his mouth in a thin film, even though the bleeding had ceased. Two red-coated guards stood behind him, keeping eagle eyes on him, to make sure he behaved accordingly for their employer.

The whole situation made Gilbert feel uncomfortable, if not angry due to recent events. But upon laying eyes on the person who entered the room, he instantly became more then furious.

"You have a mole," he snapped as the Austrian slowly pulled the leather gloves from his thin hands, unfazed by Gilbert's words.

"So tell me Beilschmidt," he began taking a spot across from Gilbert at the small table. "Why have you kept Miss Hedervary here all these years?"

Gilbert narrowed his eyes, not liking where the conversation was going. "Her name is Mrs. Beilschmidt now."

Roderich sighed leaning back in his chair, his nose twitching slightly, not used to sitting in a chair without a cushion. "Well, this makes things more difficult."

"What are you after Roderich?"

"Isn't it obvious, I've come to get whats rightfully mine."

Gilbert grew nervous. Roderich brought an army regiment with him. As long as he remained powerless Roderich, his worst enemy, had the means to accomplish any ends. ANY ends.

"I'm afraid you won't find anything of that sort here. Nothing, no one, here belongs to you!"

"I strongly beg to differ. If it wasn't for you corrupting her mind, leading her astray, and eventually kidnapping her she would have been mine!" Roderich retorted.

"Well sorry that you missed the wagon. She chose me, not you. So why don't you get back on your pony go back to your mansion and piddle away on your piano," Gilbert nearly yelled at him, clenching his fists that sat in his lap.

Roderich's eyebrow twitched in anger. Turning his violet eyes to the men behind Gilbert he simply said, "Get him out of here. Before he causes trouble."

Gilbert instantly felt his arms grabbed and his body pulled from the chair. Roderich only straightened his waist coat as Gilbert was ushered toward the door. Fear rose in his throat as his stomach dropped.

"Wheres Ellie, Roderich?" he asked, pulling against the soldiers.

Roderich ignored him. His only motions where that of him procuring his pocket watch from his jacket, clicking it open, and examining the clock's face.

"Wheres Ellie?" he shouted again, the echoes of his screams remaining even after he was removed from the room.

()()()()()()

"I swear I'll kill you for this one day you pint sized pansy pianist!" Gilbert screamed, followed by more profanities and curses then most men even knew existed.

"Why didn't you gag him?" Roderich calmly asked a soldier, as they stood in the front doorway, observing the scene before them.

"We thought the blindfold would be more effective in the long run sir," the soldier answered.

Gilbert sat astride a horse, his legs locked into the stirrups of the saddle, a jet black blind fold covered his eyes and his hands where chained around the neck of the timid beast. The horse clomped its hooves, made nervous by the volume of noise procuring from its unwanted and unruly rider. The horses mane tickled his face and nose in a way that made him sneeze every minute or so.

His form shivered, goosebumps rising on his skin, in the midnight air. Only being clad in a simple pair of trousers and his thin night shirt.

The horse rocked back and forth on its legs. A small soldier holding its reigns, looking to the two men standing in the doorway, waiting for his captain to give him the signal. Gilbert ground his teeth in anger, sensing the tension, shaking the shackles around his wrists in an effort to free himself, even though the heavy weight to the chains soon proved it to be futile.

"Should we let him say goodbye to his wife, before we set him loose into the woods?" the captain asked.

"She's not his wife," Roderich curtly responded, turning away from the door frame, taking a few steps into the foyer. He listened as the horse neighed as its flank was smacked, and its hooves pounding on the ground as it sped fearfully into the woods, both the horse and Gilbert disappearing completely in the thick brush.

Turning back to the captain Roderich said, "Tell them to gather their things, I want to be heading back toward Austria before dawn.

* * *

><p>AN: I've had this in my documents for awhile. First of many chapters yet to be written. I just thought I'd upload this and see what people think, sort of as an experiment. Otherwise I won't continue. I'm relying on demand here. So if you wanna know what happens next leave a review or story alert, whatever.

I'm in the midst of completing another story right now, so if I do update it might be in a few weeks or so. So until then let me know what you think, review and above all enjoy!


	2. Chapter 2

**Sweet Silesia**

**Chapter Two**

He ached all over. His muscles and bones stiff and sore from riding, not too mention from being locked into a very uncomfortable position within the saddle. It wasn't until they where well deep and lost in the woods that he managed to remove the blindfold, pulling the cloth off his head by rubbing it against the steed's sweaty neck. As the cloth fell from his face his eyes slowly blinked open in the shady light of the forest. It was midday, the sun was high in the sky, and he had no idea where he was. He knew every tree, bush, and vine that surrounded his home. He knew nothing here.

The horse eventually tired out and slowed to a trot, eventually stopping completely to catch its breath and nibble on some grass. Forcing his chained legs down into the stirrups, he stood up in the saddle, slowly pulling his chained hands up and over the head of the equine beast. Though his wrists remained shackled, he had more movement in his upper body and arms, and more importantly control of the reins.

He flexed his shoulders and back muscles, letting his body's blood flow return to normalcy, as his stiff bones cracked, loosening themselves in their joints. As the horse nibbled at a small patch of grass, GIlbert examined the cuffs around his wrists. He could tell by their decoration that they where austrian, but the locks where his main focus. They where too tight around his wrists to simply pull off and no matter how simple the locks where they could not be picked, since he lacked the every possible resource to do so.

Then his mind went to the thick clasps on his ankles that held his feet in the stirrups. He considered pulling the saddle loose so he would be free of the horse, but then he would be chained to a heavy saddle in the middle of the forest, completely immobile. On the horse he had a means of getting somewhere, anywhere for that matter, freeing himself and returning home completely unharmed. He knew Roderich intended it that way, that man didn't have the guts let alone the balls to kill him. He just wanted Gilbert out of the way.

Gilbert swallowed a heavy lump in his throat when the possibilities of what Roderich was doing to his Ellie surfaced in his mind. The man wasn't the violent sort and no matter how Gilbert denied it Roderich was a man nonetheless.

The horse soon raised his head apparently finished with his meal, allowing Gilbert to grasp the reins and kick the horse into a canter guiding it through the wood.

_Get free, get help, then get back home._

_()()()()()()()()_

He eventually came across a town he knew from his regular travels abroad. Apparently he was near France's eastern border, not far from a friends house. Denying the town he made his way down the road toward where his acquaintance lived, preferring the consolation of a friend then the humiliation of a town.

It was near sunset when he approached Francis's front gate, his rear end sore and legs numb from sitting astride in the saddle all day. He fought off the heaviness of his eyelids from exhaustion and the growl of his empty stomach as he pulled the horse to a stop in front of the large manor under a lit window, where he knew Francis would probably be enjoying his evening wine and the company of a young woman.

"Yo Francis! Care lend a friend a hand!" he yelled at the top of his lungs.

Moments past and the house lay still. Gilbert's patience was at its end.

"Bonnefoy! Get your fragrant french ass off that couch or else I'll set it on fire like you do with most of your food!"

Several more moments passed and eventually a shadow emerged behind the bright window's frame. The window panes swung open and a blonde flamboyantly dressed man stuck his head out, his blue eyes scanning the front entrance of his home. His eyes fell on Gilbert and he smiled.

"Oh honhonhon! Gilbert, mon ami, what kind of trouble have you've gotten yourself into?" said the frenchman, seeing that his old comrade was chained like a criminal to a horse.

"Why don't you cut me loose, give me some food and a beer and I'll tell you," said Gilbert, the horse teetering back and forth on its tired legs.

"Ah I wish I could but Mademoiselle Bella cannot wait much longer," he chuckled as the shape of a woman appeared behind him.

"And neither can Frau Beilschmidt! The Austrian is on the loose again!"

Francis's face suddenly fell. "He finally came for her?"

"It seems so," said Gilbert sadly. "He took Ludwig too."

Francis turned away from the window, to the elegant frame of the window behind him. "I'm afraid our evening will have to wait me love."

()()()()()()()()()()

Gilbert greedily drank the beer that was placed before him only pausing to nibble on a piece of bread and cheese. He couldn't remember the last time he had been so hungry.

He refused the seat at the kitchen table that the servants had offered. After sitting in a saddle all day he preferred to stand, enjoying the feeling of blood returning to his legs.

As Gilbert wiped away the last drops of beer that fell from his lips Francis entered the room. His elegant dress coat removed, having no more need of it.

"So," he began. "I presume our former college Edelstein ruined your night and thus in turn ruined my evening. Why must he deprive us of the company we keep with women?"

Gilbert let out a sigh. Francis never changed.

"I came to ask you for your help," Gilbert said simply.

It was Francis's turn to sigh. "Does this mean I have to cancel tomorrow's evening plans as well?"

Gilbert rolled his eyes. "I plan to be heading back home tomorrow, thats if I'm lucky."

"Lucky about what?"

"You've mentioned that you have one or two spies in Austria, correct?"

"I have no idea what your talking about Beilschmidt."

"Don't play any games here Francis. The austrian's are your least favorite people of anyone. Edelstein waited five years and now he wants Ellie back. Theres bound to be something wrong and if you have the resources to find out whats going on I can get my wife back and you can hit the austrians where it hurts the most," Gilbert explained, quickly loosing his patience.

Francis's blue eyes wavered, considering the German's proposition.

"Give me till morning. I'll see what I can find."

()()()()()()()()()()

"Where's Gilbert?"

Roderich didn't move, even as the coach jostled its way down the bumpy road.

Leaning forward so their eyes met, she persisted. "Where's Gilbert Roderich?"

Sensing the anger in her voice he replied, "He had to leave."

"Why?" she said, her voice now laced with confusion.

"Business of some sort. I didn't trouble with the details."

"I never heard of a business that calls men away in the middle of the night while being chained to the horse!" she spat at him.

It was then Ludwig's ears perked up. "Where's bruder?"

"Why doesn't Mr. Edelstein himself explain what he did to your brother and why?"

For once Ludwig's placid mask fell away to be replaced with that of worry. His young mind contemplating what his life would be like without his elder brother, his only remaining guardian and family.

Roderich noticed this, as did Elizaveta who placed a tender arm around his shoulders. It was impossible to ignore when a child's heart was breaking.

"I didn't lay a finger on him. No harm was meant. If he is as smart as people say he is, he would have found a way to get free and with any luck be back at the house by now. I only meant to get him out of the way."

"Out of the way for what?"

Roderich paused, fishing a document out of his briefcase that sat beside him.

Elizaveta's eyes widened as he placed the document before her in her lap.

"So this can be put into law without any interruptions."

()()()()()()()()()()

Gilbert never liked sleepless nights, especially when there was something wrong with the world. Morning didn't come easy either. The ache of his previous journey weighed heavily on his joints and muscles and the exhaustion showed in the dark circles under his eyes.

"Tsk. I'm afraid your in no state to meet with a lawyer my friend," Francis clucked as he donned his business attire.

"I have no interest in meeting one, let alone doing business with one."

"Why do you say that?"

Gilbert sighed as he sunk into the couch, his voice weary. "Vati always said 'If you want to get anything done in life Gilbert you do it yourself and you do it your way.' For once I listened to my father and as I grew I realized that lawyers, politicians and the like, never get anything done. They just rely on papers, documents, contracts. Things that have no meaning in the next world or century."

Francis chuckled, straightening his cravat. "Then how do you get things done?"

"Isn't it obvious. Even the great philosopher Socrates said it!"

"I'm guessing it has to do with your position in the military," guessed Francis, turning away from the mirror.

"At the end of the day philosophies and thoughts are nothing, for its the fist and physical actions that win the day. I'm a soldier, its how I get things done." Gilbert flexed his hand in the morning sunlight seeping in from the window, his mind more exhausted then he knew.

"If thats the case then why are you asking help from my lawyer?" Francis questioned.

"The lawyer thing was your idea! I wanted to put your small army to use!"

Francis smirked thoughtfully, realizing Gilbert had a point.

"I understand your reasoning. But from what you told me there is more to this then meets the eye. Edelstein never does anything without good reason and I doubt that reason was pure lust. honhonhon."

Gilbert groaned.

"I apologize my friend, but unfortunately you found yourself a beautiful wife and any man not attracted to her doesn't deserve the right to be called a man."

Gilbert still groaned. He needed Ellie back.

()()()()()()()()()()

Gilbert tried to eat breakfast as he waited for Francis to finish the meeting. He hated waiting, nor was he hungry. His head lay in his head as he pushes the eggs and cheese around on his plate.

Eventually Francis entered, several pieces of parchment in one hand and smoothing his hair with the other. He had several things to say, things he wasn't quite sure how to say to Gilbert.

"So what did you find?" Gilbert asked, finally pushing his plate away.

He set the parchment pieces on the table with a sigh before saying, "I'm sorry my friend, but it looks like your wife was never really your wife to begin with."

* * *

><p>AN: Okay so the reason for this speedy update was because it was partially pre-written. Your wonderful reviews alerts and faces prompted me to finish it. Keep that up and I will write more. Also, prepare for a complete bad touch trio, thats the only spoiler I'm giving you. And what could possibly those documents be?

I did slightly quote Socrates in there from Plato's Republic. Its not word for word and it was more or less a side note, meaning it had nothing to do with the rest of the book. But it is one idea that stuck with me from my last Philosophy class. Of course after my professor pointed this out I couldn't help but think: Then why am I being forced to take this class?

Hope this was enjoyable! Please review, let me know what you think! Thanks!


	3. Chapter 3

**Sweet Silesia**

**Chapter 3**

Elizaveta's hand shook as she unfolded the parchment in her lap. She could feel Ludwig's gaze over her shoulder, blue eyes wide with curiosity.

The carriage jostled and her grip on the paper loosened, letting it fall to the carriage floor.

It lay there for several moments, before Roderich himself picked it up, unfolded the crease and read,"The Final Will and Testimony of MR. J. A. Hedervary. "

()()()()()()()()()()

"What is it?"

"The will of Elizaveta's father."

"He died when she was ten, what could this possibly have to do with anything?"

"Read it, you'll understand."

Even though he doubted it he picked it up and began reading it anyway. A single paragraph contained quotations, indicating it was the one that needed to be read.

"Concerning my sweet daughter Elizaveta…." Gilbert began, before silently reading over what Elizaveta's father planned for her.

His eyes widened when he read of the amount of the dowry, a dowry that neither had knowledge of till that moment. Then again, when they had made the decision to elope they had made the decision to be married outside of the graces of their peers, cutting them off from benefits such as these.

He continued reading. Her father had his whole daughter's life mapped out for her, from the schools she could attend, to where she would work, and of course whom she should marry.

Gilbert's hand shook with fury. It took all his will power to not tear the parchment to shreds.

_"On her 20th birthday she shall be considered of marriageable age and officially begin her courtship with Mr. Roderich Edelstein and if chosen wed to him on her 21st birthday. Until then she shall remain in his custody as a member of his household."_

Ten years old and already promised to Roderich. Neither of the men even considered that she would elope with a young soldier when she was barely even eighteen.

Then suddenly it all made sense. Why he looked at Ellie as if she was already his. Edelstein's bankrupt company. His raid on the Beilschmidt house. His hasty methods to get Gilbert out of the way.

It was all to get Elizaveta back and fulfill the wish of her deceased father. Her 21st birthday was less then a month away. If he had chased after her when they first ran off she would have kept running away. Now he had her under his wing and this time she couldn't run. She was bound by the iron statements set forth in the will.

And it couldn't have happened at a more opportune time, with Roderich's company on the verge of collapse a dowry that size seemed like a lifesaver. A fatty lifesaver of easy money.

Was that all she was to him? An easy ticket out of humiliation, simply bought with the words 'I do'?

Gilbert held his face in his hands, running his fingers through his hair out of anxiety, as he let his elbows rest on the table.

She never was his, she was Roderich's all along.

Francis placed a friendly hand on the german's shoulder, who hid his face in hands. The frenchman had seen this one too many times, but lacked a sufficient cure. After all, what proper way is there to heal a broken heart?

()()()()()()()()()()

"You can't be serious?" Elizaveta snapped.

"I'm afraid I am. I made a promise to your father to take care of you and I intend to do exactly that," Roderich explained, placing the document back in his briefcase.

"And you think kidnapping me or better yet stealing me out of my bed in the middle of the night are your means of doing so?"

"With the deadline fast approaching you left me with little choice. I can't say that I didn't wait patiently for you these past years."

"I didn't come back because I didn't want to come back. I was with Gilbert. I married him, and I was happy. Why couldn't you respect that?" she said now realizing she was fighting back tears. Her whole world seemed to be ripping into shreds.

"My sources tell me that you and Gilbert eloped."

"What does that have to do with anything?" she snapped again.

"A secret marriage. Done without contracts, witnesses, and approval from family. No evidence exists that you two where ever a pair, therefore the marriage is easily void and null. Which leaves you at the whim of your father's will."

Elizaveta sunk back into the plush seat of the coach, defeated. Her heart was racing. All she could think about was the promise she made to herself years ago, that when she left Austria she would never come back. Now here she was, sitting across from her former master in his private carriage, taking her back to his home as his betrothed.

A single tear fell from the corner of one of her emerald eyes. None of this seemed right.

Roderich looked up from his book that he read just in time to notice it. He instantly procured a handkerchief from his waist coat and offered it to her.

She took it, wiping her eyes dry before handing it back to him.

"Keep it," he said, returning to his book.

More moments passed in silence.

Ludwig, who had remained lost in his own thoughts suddenly piped up, "What kind of evidence Mr. Edelstein?"

Roderich's eyes never left his book. "Some sort of marriage contract or physical evidence proving that they where together at one point."

Elizaveta suddenly felt Ludwig's gaze on her, ebbing her to think. Physical evidence?

Then suddenly it dawned on her. She cursed herself for not realizing it sooner.

"What if I was carrying Gilbert Beilschmidt's child?"

()()()()()()()()()()

"What if Ellie was pregnant?"

"Excusez-moi?"

The gears clicked and turned in his mind as his thoughts processed.

"Would Roderich still take her if she was carrying another man's child?"

"What are you talking about Gilbert?" Francis was confused.

"Ellies pregnant, only a few months. But she's going to have a baby…my baby!" Gilbert said ecstatically.

Francis's eyes widened. "Congrats mon ami!" he replied happily, patting him on the back. "That could very well be our linch-pin in this whole debacle."

The two men felt a huge burden leave their shoulders. They had found a loophole, a loophole to fix this whole mess. Gilbert would get his family back and Francis, well, his rival in business would be less one advantage, one that would leave him bankrupt. It was impossible to hide his triumphant smirk.

"I sent for Antonio this morning, but apparently we might not need his help after all."

"Let him come, something tells me Edelstein won't give up that easily."

()()()()()()()()()

Roderich's eyes shot up from the book, wide and in shock through his spectacles.

He just stared at the woman across from him for several moments. He had taken note earlier how her body had matured nicely these past few years. Her hips wider, her breasts fuller, and her skin all the more radiant. The very same traits that pregnant woman possessed. But he had never considered the notion until now.

The Austrian's lilac gaze fell to her stomach, the folds of her dress giving the appearance of a flat torso. Yet a small bulge rested there, a bulge almost too small to notice.

He knew then that she spoke the truth. The woman he had desired and waited for all these years was in fact carrying another man's child.

Roderich let his gaze soften, before saying, "That will call for a change in plans."

* * *

><p>AN: Well I'm pleased to see that everyone likes this story so far. Your wonderful reviews have made it fun to write. I don't mean to sound greedy put please keep them coming, their a wonderful writing motivation and I love you all for them.

Drama is building up! du du du! What will Roderich do? What will happen to Gilbert? The baby?

I don't know why, but I love making babies in my fanfics. Then again if you have characters having sex all the time its just practical sense. You see characters on TV mentioning having sex all the time, yet somehow the character doesn't end up pregnant, even if its historical or something. Take a reality check people, cause it happens in life more often then you would think!

I'm ranting now. Hope you enjoyed, please review and let me know what you think! Till next time! Thanks!


	4. Chapter 4

**Sweet Silesia**

**Chapter 4**

The carriage jostled to a halt in front of the Edelstein estate. An elegantly dressed servant rushed forward to open the carriage door, welcoming his employer home.

Roderich gave a nod of thanks as he stepped out of the carriage onto the gravel courtyard. He turned back, peering into the carriage.

"Elizaveta," he chided. "Won't you come out now?"

He was answered with silence, yet he still extended his hand for the lady in the carriage to take.

"Elizaveta?" he asked again.

"I will not step out of this carriage unless it is parked in front of my proper home," Elizaveta replied in a mocking tone.

Roderich briefly exchanged glances with the footmen, slightly embarrassed.

"Darling? We are already running late," he said, trying to make the situation look better then what it was.

"I'm not your darling dearest!" she continued to mock, her voice now abrasive. "Only my husband is allowed to call me that!"

Roderich felt his check flush as the footmen's eyes bulged with curiosity. Elizaveta's stubbornness did not bode well when it came to his gossiping staff.

With a deep sigh he climbed back into the carriage and gripped Elizaveta's shoulder roughly, grudgingly whispering, "This is not a time for games Elizaveta! Both our reputations are on the line here! You may think you'll be in favor with the staff cause you where once part of it, but your sudden disappearance with Beilschmidt has them, the town, and my inner circle in a gossiping frenzy of what you've been up too these past few years. I know your stronger then most women of society but believe me when I say that they will destroy you and when they destroy you they destroy me. And when they destroy me they destroy my tolerance for the Beilschmidt family."

His grip on her shoulder worsened. "Any member of the Beilschmidt family."

She wrung the handkerchief in her hands.

"Now please, cooperate."

Once more he removed himself from the coach and offered her his hand. She took it this time, begrudgingly and stepped out of the carriage into the bright sun. The manor loomed before her in its extravagance. Its massive size the same as it was in her memory.

She found Roderich offering her his arms, which she also took but not before taking Ludwig's hand.

Elizaveta couldn't believe that she was returning to this place. For so long she wanted to leave it, yet she couldn't bring herself to hate it either. After all it was the place that brought her to Gilbert.

()()()()()()()()()()

_She didn't sleep well that night. The cannons where far to close and the battle coming ever closer. She found herself hiding under her bed that night, in case a cannon should miss fire and send a cannon ball zooming into her room at full speed. _

_Yet the battle eventually died off or retreated someplace farther off. Nevertheless she was still afraid. Afraid that the battle would once more return to the place she called home and destroy everything she knew. _

_She had actually spent most of the night wondering about we would do if Roderich's manor was suddenly demolished and she the survivor. A simple servant girl without a house to clean. No floors to mop, no laundry to do, no objects to dust, no silver to polish. _

_She knew where she would go. Anywhere and everywhere. She thought of what it would be like to join ranks with the gypsies that so often traversed through town and travel in a caravan across Europe. Dancing for a few coins, swindling a few naive rich men, living outside the law with no responsibilities or cares. _

_She dreamed of such an exotic life and adventures. To the point where the head maid scolded her for slacking off on her chores the following morning. _

_"Quite your day-dreaming girl!" she reprimanded. "Now go fetch me some well water, I need it for the laundry."_

_Rubbing her eyes of sleep she made her way outside, bucket in hand. She shivered in the morning mist. The fog eerily silent from the great noise the battle incurred the night before. She never understood why men fought the way they did, nor did she intend to find out. Roderich had attempted to explain it to her more then once and in the end it always seemed pointless. _

_Vendettas, revenge, pay-backs, getting even. Why do people go through life so filled with hate and violence? _

_She slowly made her way across the field, her socks dampened from the morning dew as she made her way to the well. The old iron wheel squeaked obnoxiously as it always did as she lowered the bucket into the well's dark crevice. _

_A small sound made its way across the meadow. Yet she paid it no mind, thinking it a small piece of wildlife. _

_Hoisting the water laden bucket back up with a heave from its new weight, the sound came again only louder and more desperate. _

_Pulling the bucket onto the ledge, it came again. "HELP!" it screamed, frightening her, causing her to drop the bucket back into the well. _

_"PLEASE!" it called again. _

_Heart pounding from fear and curiosity she made her way further across the meadow, closer and closer to the edge of the forest. It called several more times._

_"What are you?" she eventually called back._

_"A soldier!" it answered._

_"What do you want?"_

_"Nothing!"_

_"Then why are you crying out in desperation?" she asked, peaking into the brush of the forest. _

_"My leg! It hurts! I can't move!"_

_"So your injured. How?" a twig snapped under her foot as she explored, searching for the missing soldier. _

_"My captain ordered a retreat. I was running then suddenly I couldn't run anymore."_

_"You where running away? I thought soldiers where brave men, that never run from a fight," she answered naively yet with a small chuckle._

_"I was ordered to. It was the commander that ran away. I would have stayed and fought if I could," he answered, trying to sound brave. _

_A blue jacket came into view, jet black powder smears revealed its experience in battle. The figure that wore it was a young man, no older then twenty, with snow white hair dirtied and tussled from war and the most beautifully exotic crimson orbs she had ever seen. _

_Another twig snapped and his head snapped up to where she stood. She found herself under his crimson gaze for longer then what she deemed appropriate. _

_Slowly she approached him, their gazes never breaking. Green locked on red. _

_"Where are you hurt?" she asked kneeling down beside him, breaking his gaze as her cheeks flushed. _

_"Um...um…my leg, yes my leg" he stuttered out. _

_"I'm Gilbert," he said suddenly, offering his hand. _

_"E-elli…," she stuttered, her face flushing. "I-i mean…My names Elizaveta."_

_"Its a pleasure to meet you Ellie."_

()()()()()()()()()()

After being stranded and shackled to a horse for twelve hours Gilbert wasn't all that eager to get back in the saddle. Yet he was sick of waiting, he needed to get Ellie and his little brother back. He didn't even want to think about what that Austrian was doing to her or could do to her at any given moment.

Fastening the saddle to his horse, Francis pestered, "Your in such a rush, why can't you wait until Tony gets here. The last time I saw you this impatient where the hours leading up to your wedding night," he replied with his heart chuckle.

Gilbert glared at him. "I'm sick of waiting Francis! Elizaveta's my wife, carrying my child, and Ludwig's my little brother. I'm responsible for them, I can't let them wait any longer. I don't want to let them down."

"My agents are still uncovering information regarding this matter. As you said earlier the Austrian has tricks up his sleeve. If we play our cards right we can win this thing hands down and walk away victorious. If you act out of impulse like you usually do we'll walk away with nothing." Francis sighed, leaning against the threshold of the stables, as Gilbert hastily readied his horse.

Shoving a borrowed riding jacket onto his shoulders Gilbert began to lead the steed outside.

"For once Gilbert try and be patient," Francis pleaded.

"I've had enough of patience Francis."

Sun beating down on his head, he mounted his horse, digging his feet into the stirrups and gripping the reins. "This may be another business deal to you Francis but my family hangs in the balance. You stay here and see what you can find, I'll meet up with you and Tony in Frankfurt in a few days."

Having said those words he kicked his horse into a gallop, speeding down the road at a great speed, his hair and jacket bristling in the wind.

Francis stood out on the road watching Gilbert disappear in the dust. "Lets just hope you can wait until then."

()()()()()()()()()()

Ludwig didn't know what to do with himself in the giant house. The atmosphere in his brother's home made him feel humbly significant, yet in the giant Edelstein estate with its gleaming marble hallways, large windows, galleries, and mirror corridors he couldn't help but feel incredibly small and insignificant. The maid Hilga always acknowledged him, while here not one of the numerous servants took notice of him as if they where too proud to make eye contact with a child, let alone speak to him. It didn't take long for him to want to return home.

He found himself clinging to Elizaveta, the only familiar person in a strange and foreign land. Despite her kindness and attention towards him he was never extremely fond of her, mostly because she unintentionally distracted his brother from him. But the woman made his big brother the person whom he admired most in the world smile, and because of that he never hated her.

The evening of the day they arrived at the manor Ludwig chose to sneak her out, having not found anything else to occupy his time and had enough of the disapproving glares that the adults shot him, unaware it was because of his scruffy appearance. He found her in one of the guest rooms just as Roderich stormed out in a huff.

He timidly entered the room, inching the door open before peering in. He saw Elizaveta sitting at the foot of the bed, her head in her hands as she wept. Ludwig had never seen her cry before, nor ever heard such a heart-broken sob wrack a woman's body.

Tugging on her skirt he quietly asked, "Whats wrong Ellie? When are we going home?"

Elizaveta took a deep breath, drying her face in a cloth napkin. "I'm afraid we might not ever go home Ludwig."

* * *

><p>AN: Turns out weaving in the flashbacks will be harder then I thought. Oh well, we'll see where it goes. The flashbacks are intended to be snip-its of the past, providing some deeper insight into their relationship, nothing major really. But nevertheless I hope you like them cause there will be more.

For writing purposes I must ask each and everyone of you where do you think this story is heading, or even better when does it seem the pair will get back together? As a reader you feedback will be wonderful, not too mention your wonderful reviews!

So please answer the questions of you can and overall lemme know what you think! Hope you enjoyed and thanks a bunch for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

**Sweet Silesia**

**Chapter 5**

The horses hooves pounded the dirt path all the way from France to Germany. Gilbert kept the horse running at a fast pace all the way back through the woods to his home. His breath was heavy on his lips as he neared his home.

The house soon loomed before him. It was deserted. The kicked in door hung open. A few windows where shattered. The weeds and plants of the garden over grown.

His heart sunk, seeing his home in tatters. He slowly dismounted his horse, tying the reins off to a fence post, which had been kicked by a soldier so it stood at an angle.

He slowly made his way through the front door, unprepared for what he was about to find.

The whole house lay in ruins. Furniture overturned and broken. His antler trophies torn from the wall and shattered on the floor.

It was only a few days ago that he shared this home with his family and now it lay in remnants of a family portrait, as he watched the precious memories they once shared here dance before him.

He slowly made his way through the home, everything was overturned, not a single thing was left untouched. He soon found himself standing at the threshold of the room he and Ellie shared. Out of all the rooms it had incurred the greatest of wrath by Roderich's soldiers. As if it was an act of vengeance for the years he could have had with her.

The mattress on the bed overturned, the sheets loose, their clothes and garments strewn across the floor. The nightstand and dressers broken, rips in the curtains, and a shattered window.

He made a motion to try and clean some of it up. Yet he couldn't bring himself too. None of it seemed right, not without Ellie there.

()()()()()()()()()()

_Her ivory dress twirled as she spun across the floor. Her contagious smile and giggles tugged at the corners of his mouth as he watched his new wife dance across the open floor. _

_"I can't believe we live here!" she squealed, before jumping into a kart-wheel, her skirt falling to reveal her bare legs and feet. His eyes widened at the sight._

_She soon paused, the flowers in her hair falling loose as she skipped over to him. _

_"Dance with me!"_

_It wasn't a question, but a demand. _

_"Your not tired?" he asked, taking her hand._

_"No, why would I be? How can I be?" She beamed, pulling him out into the open floor of the foyer._

_They where alone, without a care in the world. In their young and naive minds nothing could go wrong. _

_He ignored the occasional twitch of pain in his leg, the remnants of an old battle wound, as he danced with her. His new wife, in the home he had just inherited from his grandfather. It was their home now. _

_"I can't believe it," she soon whispered into the shoulder of his military jacket. _

_"Believe what?" he asked, curious._

_"I can't believe that I married the goofy soldier I stumbled across in the forest one day," she said with a giggle._

_"I wasn't goofy. I was wounded!" he protested. _

_"Only before Patrice gave you those herbs to soothe the pain. After that you where rather goofy!" she giggled once more._

_"I have no recollection," he bluntly stated._

_"I figured," she said, smiling up at him. _

_They shared several moments of a soft and silent gaze, before Gilbert lowered his head kissing her fully on the lips. He pulled her close, crinkling the fabric of her wedding dress, while the other hand caressed her soft neck. He had waited so long for this moment. _

_Suddenly something clattered to the wooden floorboards, breaking their trance. _

_Elizaveta gazed down at her feet. "No!" she cried out. "Falling to her knees scooping up the object in her hands._

_"What is it?" Gilbert asked, kneeling beside her._

_"My mother's locket. It broke," she replied mournfully, fingering the broken clasp._

_She held a small gold locket in her hands, off of which held a small and broken gold chain. It looked old and worn,having adorned at least two necks of beautiful women. _

_"I can fix it," he found himself saying._

_"Really?" she beamed._

_"I'll give it a try. Whats inside it?" he asked._

_"I don't know, probably nothing. I've never been able to open it," she said placing it in his palm._

_He gently placed it in his pocket. Then cupped Ellie's face, smiled and said, "Now, where were we." _

()()()()()()()()()()

"Hello? Hello is anyone there?" called a voice from downstairs.

"Hilga?" Gilbert answered, searching one of the intact drawers of the dresser, finding nothing but old trinkets.

Footsteps made their way up the steps, slowly but rushed.

"Master Beilschmidt?…Gilbert is it really you?" came Hilga's voice again as she neared the room.

Something smooth and golden found his way into his palm.

"Thank goodness you're alright! I came by the other morning and you were gone! Wheres Frau Beilschmidt?"

Turning over his palm a very familiar gold locket came into the view. The one Elizaveta had placed around her soft neck every so often in memory of her mother. The item was incredibly precious to her.

"She's not here Hilga," he said sadly.

"Then will when she be back? And wheres your little brother?" She persisted, starting to tidy up the room.

He placed the locket in his pocket, knowing he'll be needing it sometime soon.

"I wish I knew."

()()()()()()()()()()

He hated seeing her cry.

What he hated even more was being the cause of her tears.

Why did she love him? That wily Prussian soldier. For so many years he thought her taste in men fell into the category of higher quality, men like him. Yet she ran off, choosing a soldier over a businessman. The incident of course shocked him when he woke that one morning to find his favorite servant girl missing from the household.

Needless to say he was hurt. Did she even care for him at all?

He slowly entered her room, after timidly knocking on her door. Receiving no answer he entered.

She remained where he had left her the previous night, sitting on the foot of the bed her head in her palms. Only this time Ludwig's small form lay curled up asleep on the bed behind her.

"What is it now Roderich?" she suddenly asked.

"I came to see if you slept alright."

"Wonderfully," she responded sarcastically, her eyelids heavy from tears and exhaustion.

"And I also came to apologize," he said, his voice sincere.

Her head perked up, but her mouth remained set in a frown.

"I was flustered and angry about the events that had transpired recently and honestly I thought that no harm would be done."

"Well clearly you didn't think it through," she snapped.

He moved to sit near her, yet she only moved away.

"I am a man of honor Elizaveta. I made a promise to your father to take care of you and I intend to do exactly that."

"What are you implying?" she snapped again. Gilbert had slyly tried that trick on her one too many times, except for them it ended in laughter.

"Exactly what it means," he answered, confused.

She kept her gaze forward, avoiding his.

"I never break a promise, surely you understand that."

"No I don't. I'm afraid that your the one that doesn't understand Roderich."

* * *

><p>AN: Not quite proud of this chappie. most of it was written while I was half asleep late at night. So i apologize for errors and oddly worded sentences. I tried to clean it up as much as possible, but somethings that my sleepy mind thinks up can make sense to my conscious mind, but not to others. So leave a question and I'll answer it, if your confused.

so gilberts sad and roderichs not all bad...we think. The pace will pick up again next chappie. What could the bad touch trio be planning? What is roderich planning?

Hope you enjoyed! Please review lemme know what you think! Till next time! Thanks!


	6. Chapter 6

**Sweet Silesia**

**Chapter 6**

"Would you like the latest report Mr. Bonnefoy?" a servant asked, holding out a freshly dictated document.

"Oui, merci," Francis replied, taking the document from his footmen before slouching back in his desk chair.

"Is that your latest report from Edelstein's estate?" Antonio asked from his place at the window.

"Gilbert couldn't even wait twelve hours for it," Francis sighed, unfolding the parchments crease, beginning to read.

Antonio leaned back against the window frame as the frenchman read, gazing through the glassy pane with the utmost patience.

He turned back to him upon hearing him let out another sigh, letting the parchment fall to the desk. "So what does it say?" he asked. "What are we going to do about our german friend's predicament?"

"As far as the report says, nothing."

"What do you mean?" Antonio asked, standing upright.

"A spy overheard Edelstein threatening our Mademoiselle as the carriage dropped them off in front of the estate. Apparently if she does not cooperate with him he will harm the child she carries."

"She's pregnant?" Antonio asked in surprise.

"Oui, I told you that an hour ago. Do you ever listen to me?" Francis responded annoyed.

"When the birds sing beautiful songs, the rest of the world doesn't seem to matter," he chuckled with a hearty smile. "It is Gilbert's child right?"

Francis let out another sigh as he stood from his desk, stretching his limbs. "If it was Edelstein's why would he be threatening his own flesh and blood?"

"I don't know, he could have issues with children. Though why would anyone have issues with children, they are so adorable," Antonio said with a smile.

"Could you try to remain serious for one moment Tony!" Francis snapped, his patience thinning.

It was Antonio's turn to sigh. "So what do we do, now that we know she's threatened?"

"Well Gilbert would be fond of barging in with excessive force and sweeping her of her feet. But that is bound to have negative consequences. Edelstein already stole her back once with no casualties. Since he's so determined to fulfill her father's will, he might be the one to use excessive force if he has to take her back again and the next time Gilbert might not be so lucky."

"Didn't he get tied to a horse?" Antonio pondered.

"The point is that Edelstein let him live. He had a squadron of armed men barge into their home yet not a single shot was fired. Obviously he had no intention of taking a life. Elizaveta of course will be treading careful ground, whether or not it is in dangerous. Gilbert tells me she's already acting like a mother and every mother proceeds with the greatest of caution if she thinks her child is in danger," Francis continued to explain, pouring a glass of wine.

"Well it just make sense to protect something so beautiful and precious. Who do you think it will resemble the most? Gilbert or Elizaveta? Imagine what people will think if they saw a child with brown hair and red eyes, or even green eyes with white hair? That is bound to be the most adorable!" Antonio chuckled.

"TONY!"

"Sorry mi amigo."

Francis took a heavy sip of wine. "Besides, with Gilbert's condition his traits are recessive so the kid will either look like Ludwig or Ellie," Francis said, taking another drink from the goblet.

Antonio tilted his head back in realization. "Ludwig is a beautiful child. I don't understand why he's so stoic and tense whenever I'm around."

"Maybe you terrify him cause you constantly say how cute he is," Francis said finishing the glass and setting it down on his desk.

"Edelstein has Ludwig in his custody as well doesn't he?"

"Oui."

"So if we can't get his wife back, then what can we do?"

"Buy him his first round of beer and issue an order for Edelstein to return Ludwig into Gilbert's custody."

"Is that really all we can do?"

"For now."

()()()()()()()()()()

"May I ask why I'm denied the squadron of men I requested?" Gilbert persisted, stoic in his full military uniform.

"General Beilschmidt, you are asking me to lend you our armed forces for the sake of a women. Not only is it irresponsible with our resources, but its absolutely ludicrous!" his superior nearly screamed at him.

"She's not just any woman sir," he protested as kindly as possible.

"Is she the infamous Helen of Troy then? The women who crumpled an empire."

"She's my wife sir and Helen was a harlot from Greece, stolen by the prince of Troy. Troy is the empire that fell, not her homeland. Besides not even a month ago the Kaiser was saying that we needed a reason to invade Austria."

"But not one as petty as this Beilschmidt! These soldiers have been trained for the betterment of our nation, not personal vendettas of our officers."

"He has insulted her honor sir, as well as mine! I'm pretty sure you would be organizinig regiments if the same happened to you."

"My son is the heir to the throne, it would be necessary to organize regiments to return him into the Empire's custody."

"But their my men! I trained them! Plus they need the exercise. I promise casualties will be minimal."

"Your my officer, therefore they are _my _men! Don't question my authority Beilschmidt!" feigning anger.

"Sir, please…" He hated begging to a superior.

"I'm sorry Beilschmidt. But theres no possible way."

Gilbert held back a sigh. "Thank you for your time sir!"

He bowed turned on his heel and left, trying his best to conceal his defeat.

()()()()()()()()()()

"Now take this as a promise Elizaveta. If Beilschmidt is so desperate to have you back as his, then I will let you go back to him if you want to. But he has to come here and you cannot see or speak to him. Those are my only terms."

She had trouble deciding whether or not his tone was sincere.

"Why can't I go?" she asked, tears ebbing her eyes. "This was never my home."

She felt his hand at her collarbone. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

His hot breath misted against her cheek. "I've always thought of you fondly. I hope one day you'll think the same of me."

_Come back to me Gilbert. Please come back for me._

()()()()()()()()()()

_"Must you go?" she whined as he readied his horse. _

_"They dispatched an order for all soldiers to report to the front. If I don't go I'm a deserter and I don't think your too fond of courting a dead man," he snickered tightening the saddle straps. _

_"But its so dull here when your not around. How do I even know if you'll come back?" the toe of her shoes nudging a pile of hay. _

_"You've kept me coming back for years. Why would I stop now?"_

_"I don't know. Another girl catch your eye, you loose interest…war."_

_He turned from his horse to her, taking her in his arms. "A lot of girls do catch me eye…"_

_She groaned, trying to push him away. "I don't wanna here about it."_

_He held onto her. "But none of them have been worth my time. Your the only one I've ever pursued and kept coming back to."_

_"Really?"_

_"Really," he said sincerely before placing a chaste kiss on her lips. _

_She kissed him back, her fingers lightly playing with the edges of his hair. _

_The sound of someone else's footsteps caught his ears. Still kissing the women in his arms, he briefly looked up at the threshold of the stable. There stood Roderich, looking right at him. His gaze an impassive one as if he was in shock. The austrian quickly turned on his heel and left the scene. Elizaveta didn't even notice he was there. _

_Gilbert smirked into Elizaveta's kiss before asking, "Come away with me."_

_She paused, her body frozen. "What?"_

_"Run away with me Ellie," he said in eagerness. _

_"W-why are you asking me this? Roderich w-would never let it happen."_

_"Thats the whole point. Roderich doesn't have to know, he doesn't need to know."_

_Elizaveta gazed at him, confused. "A-are you asking me to marry you?"_

_"Not yet. I thought you would appreciate some reassurance. I will always come back for you." he kissed her once more, embracing her tightly. She on the other hand had a vice-like grip around his neck._

_Eventually they parted. Within moments Gilbert had mounted his horse and rode off, disappearing down the rode. _

_A new light had emerged in her heart that day. He only wanted her, and he was coming back for. She just hoped he could survive another battle. That was what weighed heavily on her heart as she watched him leave. _

_"Come back to me Gilbert, please come back for me," she whispered into the wind. _

_"Elizaveta," Roderich's voice called. "Would you come here please?"_

_Smoothing her apron down the front of her dress, she made her made into the house as her master had bade her too._

_"Don't worry," she said to herself. "One more battle and your free."_

* * *

><p><em>AN:_ Two updated stories in one day!...darn its past midnight :p oh well. I got it done and its not a filler!

So in full honesty what did you think of the France and Spain interaction? That was the most fun part of this chapter to write but I still doubt myself. I'm a writer therefore I'm overly critical of my work. Oh and when gilbert was talking to his superior officer, I was in debate about whether or not that should be old fritz. I left it out in the open for you guys, in case I got the historical accuracies screwed up.

Hope you enjoyed! Please review let me know what you think! Till next time! Danke!


	7. Chapter 7

**Sweet Silesia**

**Chapter 7**

Ludwig was three years old when his father died. The memory of the man that sired him was a blur, but it was a memory nonetheless. He had no memories of his mother, she had died giving birth to him. It wasn't until his father had passed that he had acquired a sense of how much death surrounded his existence.

Gilbert had a way of making him forget that. He'll never forget the day that his big brother officially took him under his wing. The young soldier that approached him with a crooked smile while he sat on the front porch of their father's house crying.

He remembered him kneeling down to his level and the kindness and courage he saw in those bright red eyes. "Its gonna be alright Luddy. Your not alone. With the awesome me taking care of you, you'll never have to be."

It was the earliest memory he had of his elder sibling. With their great difference in age they seemed to live in two separate worlds. As he was learning how to read and write Gilbert was marching off to war and chasing girls with his friends. Yet the blood that pulsed through their veins enabled them to close that gap. Even when Gilbert suddenly showed up at their grandfather's house one day with his bride-to-be hanging on his arm, he never felt alone.

His brother was the only family he ever truly knew. The guardian that was always there, wether or not he was needed.

Now he wasn't here. He was used to Gilbert being called away by his profession, but that always came with a promise of his return. Now there was no promise, no certainty of anything. There was nothing but questions and fear. He hated not knowing what or wasn't about to happen.

It was in his exploration of the manor's garden that all of this came crashing down on him. The mother that he killed, the father that he barely knew, the grandfather that was too old too mind him, and the biggest one of all…the brother that he might never see again.

Immediately he wanted to rush to wherever Elizaveta was and seek some sort of solace from her. But as he felt the tears moisten his cheeks, he felt too ashamed of his childlike behavior and wanted no one to see him cry, not even the only person he knew in this strange place.

Getting down on all fours he crawled under a well tended bush, that just happened to have a big enough opening for him to crawl under and hide amongst the branches and leaves, partially concealed.

Pulling his dirtied knees to his chest he hid his face in his legs, not minding the dirt that rubbed on his cheeks and face.

He didn't know how long he remained there, drowning in his own fears and guilt. He didn't care how long.

"Are you okay?" came an angelic voice. The rustle of branches greeted his ears and the afternoon sunlight suddenly flooded across his huddled form.

He glanced up into the bright light, his eyes squinting in the process. A young girl by the looks of it, possibly his age or younger, peered down at him from in-between the branches. Speckles of red hair gleamed in the sunlight as they peeked out from underneath for bandana.

Ludwig didn't know that he was staring, he didn't care.

"Why are you looking at me like that its scary!" she seemed to squeal, stepping back from his hiding place letting the branches fling back to their original position. He hastily crawled out from the bush in pursuit only to find the child standing a few feet off.

"i-i'm sorry," he stammered.

"Mr. Edelstein sent me to look for you," she squeaked, timidly. "You should go see him, its not pleasant when he's angry."

In the few days he spent here he had never seen another child his age, then suddenly this one appears out of nowhere. He was confused.

"Where is he?"

He had barely finished muttering the question when she had grabbed his hand and half ran half drug him throughout the garden into the house. She was smiling as she ran and it in turn made him laugh as well.

It felt good to smile again.

They stopped outside the door of Roderich's office.

"He should be inside," she said before disappearing down the massive hallway. Her green dress fluttering as she skipped.

Timidly he entered, not knowing what to expect.

"Mr. Edelstein?" he asked, closing the door behind him.

Roderich looked up from his desk. "There you are Ludwig, I had half the staff looking for you most of the day."

He was looking for him? Why did he care? What did this mean?

Setting his quill aside, Roderich picked up a sheet of paper, glancing at it before saying, "I received a very peculiar notification today Ludwig."

"About what?"

"Your brother is demanding that I return you into his custody."

()()()()()()()()()()

Gilbert sighed as he dismounted his horse in front of the designated tavern. His form was weary from travel as he tied the horses reigns off to the post. He craved a good beer and a good nights sleep, with his wife curled up beside him.

He had gotten so used to sharing a bed with her that he found it hard to sleep in a bed alone. Her warm lithe form, her gentle touch, the steady pace of her breath, and the sweet scent of her hair was the perfect combination to lure him into sweet slumber.

Begrudgingly he entered the half-empty tavern. It was easy to spot Francis and Tony sitting at a table at the far side of the room. They where both hunched over a wooden table, pints in their hands which they occasionally sipped as the spoke in half whispered voices. They didn't even notice he had arrived until he stood at over them at the table.

"You don't look good mon ami," Francis remarked, looking up at him.

"I didn't get reinforcements," he stated bluntly, sitting down.

"I'm afraid we have some bad news as well," Antonio sighed.

He let out a heavy sigh, laden with defeat. "Tell me now, then let me get drunk."

"We already planned on buying your first round," Francis said, sliding him a full glass of his favorite brew.

Gilbert acted as if he was about to take a hearty gulp when Antonio piped in,"But we do have some good news!"

"Which is?"

"You'll have your brother back soon. Roderich can't keep him from you forever."

"Thats good," he said taking a sip, sighing a small sigh of relief. "…and Ellie?"

"Now is when you need to start drinking Gilbert."

* * *

><p>AN: Yes this is an update! i've finished my other fanfic so now my full concentration is on this story! I'm still busy with school and work so i don't know when I will update again. So please review and please pretty please let me know what you think! More reviews mean more frequent updates! Love ya all!


	8. Chapter 8

**Sweet Silesia**

**Chapter 8**

_Elizaveta stormed out of the room in a huff, furious at her husband. She attempted to slam the door behind her but Gilbert was quick in his pursuit and caught the door as he followed in behind her, before closing the door it quietly behind him. _

_"Please Ellie…" he began._

_"Don't you 'please Ellie' me!" she snapped, rustling her hands in her hair._

_"It wasn't my decision!" he said through clenched teeth, his patience wearing thin._

_"Of course not! It was your grandfather that signed you up for the army, not yourself!"_

_Gilbert sighed, loosening the cravat around his neck._

_"What are you to the army anyway? Judging by how often you've been gone, they don't seem to think you even have a family. They treat you like a disposable soldier because they know your a loyal dog that will always come back to them when they call!" _

_She turned toward her simple vanity, gazing at herself in her mirror. "What on earth was I thinking marrying a soldier?" she said to herself quietly. _

_"Ellie…I've just been promoted. I'm moving up in the ranks. My superiors tell me that I will succeed them one day. None of this would have been possible if it hadn't been for you," he desperately tried to explain to his wife. _

_Elizaveta slumped in the seat of her vanity. She had tried brushing her hair but found herself too angry and too sad to even try, letting her hair fell in long tangles around her face. _

_"But whats the point of being promoted if your not even home to share your success with me?" she said more solemnly, hiding her face in her hair. _

_Slowly Gilbert approached her, taking note of her total change in emotion. A part of him told him to not be surprised._

_She felt two gentle hands on her shoulders while her eyes caught the reflection of the blue and red brocade of his military jacket in the mirror. She felt tears edge her eyes as he knelt down beside her, taking her hands in his._

_"I'm nearly high enough of rank where I can pass off all my work on my subordinates and I can be home more often for longer periods, as well as a higher salary, but until then I have to do the work of a subordinate and ask you for your patience."_

_He kissed one of her hands. "I'm doing this for you Ellie." His eyes grazed her flat stomach. "…and for our family."_

_It was then she started crying, hiding her face in her hands as she wept. _

_"Ellie?"_

_"I'm sorry Gil," she sobbed. "I'm so so sorry."_

_"Ellie what happened?"_

_She choked on her tears as she began to say," I….I lost…"_

_Gilbert didn't need to hear anymore to know that she had miscarried. It was the first time they ever tried. People warned them that things could very easily go wrong especially since both of them had inexperience working against them. _

_She gripped the fabric of his jacket as she cried softly, her face hidden as she buried it into his chest. Gilbert was thankful she did so, she never saw the tears he himself shed that night. _

_The reason for his wife's fit, the reason why she wanted him to stay. It all made sense now. She was a wounded creature that merely sought solace with the man she loved. It was then he made up his mind to stay. Even if he left tomorrow evening the promotion would still be waiting for him in Berlin. His Ellie needed him now, therefore she came first and always would._

()()()()()()()()()()

The morning sunshine blinded him, stinging his eyes with an unexpected ferocity as they flickered open from his slumber.

Gilbert's memory of the night before was a blur. Dismal explanations of why he would probably never see his wife again re-surfaced in his mind and he remembered why he got drunk in the first place.

He buried his pounding head into the lumpy pillow of the straw bed. It was then he remembered that they had rented rooms at the pub.

Yet he couldn't shake the feeling that he wasn't sleeping alone. He briefly recalled a dream of being intimate with Ellie and her soft lithe form welcoming him with eagerness. The warmth of another human body lay oddly close to him and for a split second he thought his Ellie was there. His heart sunk, knowing that it was nothing but a dream.

Rolling over onto his side he caught the sight of a young girl, no older then eighteen laying beside him. Her closed eyelids where lined with heavy makeup and her lips and cheeks overly decorated with rouge, which was now heavily smeared all over her face. She seemed rather plump and beneath all that makeup he could barely make out a plain child. It wasn't until he noticed her style of clothing that he knew what she was, a prostitute.

The next thing he knew, he was hurling into the room's privy. The contents of his stomach lurching upward as his body attempted to cleanse the stomach of the excessive alcohol.

A part of him hoped he would choke on his own vomit and stop breathing. He had broken his promise, his vow to Ellie that he would never love another.

_She's probably fucking Roderich this very moment._

Wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, he found himself curling up on the floor gasping for breath.

What is Ellie doing? Is she trying to escape? Is she trying to contact me? She has her own mind and voice. Surely she will think of something!

"Are you alright?" came a rather deep female voice suddenly.

He stared at the prostitute who sat upright in his bed, her large breasts nearly falling out of her bodice. He suddenly became angry. Where was his Ellie? His wife? She was the one that was supposed to be sitting in his bed, not some overcooked prostitute. Who was she to ask if he was alright or not?

"Get out!" he grunted, slowly standing from the floor.

"What?" she asked, confused, not used to be turned away by a man.

"GET OUT!" he screamed again, gripping her arm and pushing her out the door.

"FUCK YOU!" she screamed back at him, stomping out the door.

Gilbert slammed the door behind her once she was gone, before laying back down on the bed. His head pounded as he reverted to the memory of her miscarriage. He was there for her when she needed him. Now he needed her and where was she?

* * *

><p>AN: finally midterms are over! And theres nothing more relaxing then writing, good way to burn off any built-up internal emotion and stress! I actually started writing this before midterms, but then I had to stop and study which is why it is a short chapter. Hopefully the next chappie will be longer, and there will be a reunion of sorts. Not saying which, so as to not give to much away.

Anyway, please review lemme know whatcha think! More reviews = quicker updates! Love ya all!


	9. Chapter 9

**Sweet Silesia**

**Chapter 9**

_Leave. A term use in the military for a temporary absence, often given to soldiers who needed a break from the battlefront. It was on one of Gilbert's leaves that he was able to take Elizaveta away from the Edelstein Estate, whisking her away to make her his bride. He had written her his plans months in advance giving her time to prepare whatever she needed to prepare. A planned elopement was not something one heard of everyday and Elizaveta wanted to tell herself otherwise, but as she sewed together her wedding dress in the dead of night with complete secrecy she was forced to think otherwise._

_He returned for her early one morning coming straight from the battle grounds and she was gone from the estate before the sun had even begun to rise. Within three hours of their arrival in Germany twenty-four hours later they where wed. After that they where off to the late Herr Beilschmidt's household, now Gilbert's, where he had taken her, relinquishing her of her virginity._

_Neither cared how rushed things seemed, they only cared about being with the other. Being bound together in a sense that transcended any physicality._

_There was no honeymoon, just the wedding night. Early the next morning Gilbert received word that his leave had been cut short, his duty as a soldier forcing him to leave his new bride._

_It wasn't until then that Elizaveta began to worry about the haste they had made. Gilbert was a soldier, a soldier on leave being called back to the front lines. What where the chances that he would not return to her? What where the chances that she be made a bride and a widow in less then a month?_

_In the three months that he was gone, she found herself stricken with loneliness. The solitariness of the home in the middle of the woods provided her with an uncomfortable solitude. She found herself obsessing over the delivery of his letters, it was the only reassurance she had that he was alive and that he would return to her._

_She found herself busying her hands with activities around the house. A way of settling into her role as a wife, while also keeping her worries at bay. She tilled the soil of an old garden plot, readying it for planting when the season came. Arranged and re-arranged what furniture there was in the house. Mended curtains, sheets, and tablecloths. Read what books there where on the shelves. But whenever a letter came, she would drop whatever she was doing and tear through the parchment that was scrawled with his handwriting. Reading it over and over again until she knew it by heart. Then she would compose a response and send the letter on its way. Then the whole cycle would start over again._

_Then one day the letters ceased. For a week she remained in darkness of his whereabouts, fretting over his life and livelihood. It took all her strength to save her tears for the truth when she found it. She remembered fingering the simple wedding band on her finger as she read a book for the second time in a chair by the window. The printed words where a haze, her troubled mind unable to translate the black ink before her eyes._

_A cart pulled by two army horses appeared in front of the house, suddenly emerging from the dense wood. A group of soldiers, weary and injured from battle remained in the back in an half-conscious state. A familiar figure disembarked from the back of the cart, his clothes torn and dirtied with a limp in his leg. A crutch appeared under the crook of his arm, as he began to make his way up the path to the front door._

_Elizaveta could feel her heart pounding in her chest as she dropped the book carelessly to the floor, jumping from the seat and rushing outside into the arms of her husband. She nearly knocked him over when she embraced him, crying tears of joy into the sooty cloth of his jacket. With one hand steadying himself on the crutch, he buried the other in her hair. Pressing her face to his in a smoldering kiss. He had missed her terribly._

_They ignored the snickers from the remaining soldiers in the wagon as the horses' reigns snapped and the wagon disappeared back into the woods. Slowly they made their way inside, where Elizaveta washed the wounds on his leg and the scratches on his face and chest, while he recounted what war stories he was at that time ready to share._

_His letters had ceased because of an injury to the leg that was supposed to kill him, yet only rendered him unconscious for several hours in the middle of the battlefield. It was a miracle that he woke up again. His comrades, who thought him dead, couldn't hide their surprise as he stumbled back into the camp in the middle of the night._

_"One looked like he had seen a ghost," Gilbert chuckled. "His face was a look of absolute horror."_

_"What happened? What made you wake up?"_

_"The thought of seeing you again," he answered, pulling her into another kiss._

_It was early in the afternoon, yet once his wounds where cleaned and dressed they retired to their bedroom. They closed the curtains, eliminating any trace of the sunlight, leaving them shrouded in darkness. She felt Gilbert's hands on her, possessively taking hold of her as he tried to rip the clothes off her body. She couldn't help but notice the animalistic hunger and lust in his actions that day. This was so unlike his gentle touch on their wedding night. A part of her feared it, while another welcomed it._

_It didn't take long for her to find herself wrapped tightly in his arms upon the undisturbed sheets as he probed her still tender flesh. Her nails dug into the skin of his shoulder blades,conjuring moans from both parties as he had his way with her._

_Three months he spent separated from his new bride. Three months he spent surrounded by nothing but men. Three months he spent sleeping alone wishing his Ellie where there beside him, comforting him. Now she was here with him, just as his hunger was reaching its peak. He could not deny the animal within any longer, he needed to feast, to ravage her for all she was worth._

_"G-Gil…AH!" she cried as he pulsated on top of her, an odd mixture of pain and pressure building within her core. She could feel her face flush heavily and her eyes water. What was happening?_

_Gilbert's mouth was on hers, kissing her like a thirsty child drinking from a well. She felt herself being pulled into him, a physical hypnosis that she couldn't resist and found herself craving more. Her nails scratched the flesh of his back, nearly drawing blood._

_His hot breath was at her neck, her cheek, her breast. The warmth was overbearing. She felt she couldn't move, she couldn't breath, she couldn't leave. How could she possibly leave after being this way with him? She was his and he was hers. They where inseparable now._

()()()()()()()()

It was quiet that morning. Not the comfortable quiet that was usually accompanied with soft morning sunlight and the hot breath of a lover on your neck. But the cold, stale silence that was native to a prison. Elizaveta felt that she might as well be in prison as she awoke cold and alone in the bed that Roderich had assigned her. The silk sheets felt unwelcoming against her skin and the beds luminous size only reminded her of how alone she was.

As her eyes flickered open she felt herself wishing that she was back home in Germany, nestled in simple linen sheets on the small bed that gave her and Gilbert an excuse to sleep nestled in each others arms, or in most cases on top of one another in an intimate fashion.

She missed waking up nestled in his strong arms and his scent filling her nostrils. He had a way of making her feel so loved and wanted. She never felt that in her stay at the manor.

A lurch in her stomach brought her to full consciousness as she leapt out of the bed for the bathroom. Leaning over the privy she relieved herself of her stomach's meager contents. It only reminded her of the child, Gilbert's child, that she carried within her womb.

The neighs of horses reverberated throughout the rooms windows and again the child lurched within her belly. A shout was heard and she felt her heart lurch in her chest. She knew that voice. It was him. Gilbert.

Her bare feet clattered against the bare marble floor as she rushed to the window, pushing aside the curtains in a flurry. Hardly any sunlight poured into the room. They sky its usual milky gray when it was plump with rain.

Pressing her face against the glass she saw horses, three distinct horses beyond the wrought iron gate. Each horse accompanied by a figure. A Spaniard, a Frenchman and a German, her German.

He had finally come for her.

Not caring that she was clad only in a sheer nightgown, she hastily made her way to the room's threshold, hoping to run outside and into his arms. Her heart pounded wildly in her chest.

Her hand gripped the doorknob, pressing down on the hinge only to find that it wouldn't budge. Again and again she tried, jerking on the brass handle like a mad-woman. Her heart sunk in her chest, tears pricking her eyes as she pounded on the wood of the door, screaming in a mix of fear, frustration and heartbreak.

Roderich had her door locked. He knew Gilbert was coming and didn't tell her. Gilbert had come for her as she had hoped and prayed, yet Roderich still had every intention of keeping her. He had broken his promise. Gilbert had come yet she couldn't leave. She wanted him, he was so close, yet just barely out of her reach.

Her knees gave out under her as she fell to the floor in a crumpled heap, wiping her tears on the sleeve of her nightgown as she sobbed.

More shouts made their way across the yard. Pulling herself up to her feet she slowly made her way back across the room to the window. She couldn't help but feel like a caged bird as she knelt at the window's frame, her forehead, nose and palm pressed against the cool glass.

More tears flowed down her cheeks as she stared at him across the courtyard behind the iron gate. Despite the distance she knew he was looking at her. She made out his hands gripping the gate and she bit her lip, quieting her sobs.

She watched as Roderich appeared at the base of the courtyard, a confused Ludwig and several guards in tow. She watched as Ludwig's head perked up, catching sight of his brother before breaking into a run toward the grand gates.

Ludwig pressed his head against the bars as if trying to squeeze through, reaching for his brother. A hand ruffled Ludwig's blonde hair in a comforting gesture. She could almost hear Gilbert say,"Hey Luddy, long time no see." A casual smirk adorning his face features.

A clash of thunder made its way across the sky, the lightening temporarily blinding her. The sky had split open, bleeding in raindrops.

()()()()()()()()()()

He wasn't faking it. He was glad to see his brother again and to have full confidence that his younger sibling was safe. Yet as Tony had pointed out many times over, disappointment was riddled into his features.

Getting Ludwig back was a small victory of a battle. Ellie would be a full out war, since Roderich had every intention of keeping her and their child in his custody.

He waited patiently as the guard opened a small door in the gate, letting Ludwig rush out from the Manor's grounds into his brothers arms.

"You alright bruder?" Gilbert asked, through Ludwig's tight embrace.

Ludwig only stared up at him with his big blue orbs before saying, "Are you bruder?"

Raindrops sprinkled across their foreheads as Gilbert kept silent to Ludwig's question. That wasn't a question he would answer right then and there.

Grasping the reigns of his horse he helped his brother up into the saddle, as Tony and Francis mounted theirs.

"It has been a pleasure doing business with you Beilschmidt," Roderich said sarcastically, just as he was about to turn around and head back into his home.

Gilbert's eyes fell on his pistol, lodged in the holster of his saddle. Without a single thought he grabbed it, pulling it loose and aiming it at Edelstein through the gate.

"Get her out here Roderich! Give me my wife back!" Gilbert shouted in a heated rage that had been subverted for far too long.

Roderich froze in his tracks, shocked and for a split second afraid.

"What kind of man are you? Unable to find a woman for yourself so you take another's?" Gilbert heard Tony shout behind him, as he drew his own pistol followed by Francis.

The guards that flanked Roderich drew their own pistols, aiming at the trio through the gate.

"Bruder…?" Ludwig muttered nervously, seeing the firearms surrounding him.

"I believe Beilschmidt is the original thief here. She was promised to me long before you met her."

"She left you! She rejected you! Denied you! That should be enough to make any promise void! Yet you take her away in the dead of night, like some common cowardly thief!" Gilbert snarled, his pointer finger edging the trigger.

"Would you bath in water that another human has already dirtied? Here I thought you where a man of high standards Edelstein!" Francis said before adding, "No offense Gilbert."

Roderich eyed the pistol in Gilbert's hand. "You don't really think you can shoot me?"

"Don't test me Roderich! I never miss a shot, especially at point blank!" he said through gritted teeth.

"Then go ahead. Shoot me! Shoot me point blank in front of all these witnesses! Shoot me and the courts will ensure that you never see Ms. Hedervary, your brother, or the light of day again!" Roderich protested, his face as unreadable and stoic as a brick wall.

Gilbert's trigger finger shook. He wanted to shoot that bastard more then anything.

"I don't understand you men and your violence. Murder leads to revenge and revenge leads to murder. What good can be accomplished in that cycle of blood?"

It wasn't the first time that Ellie's voice had reverberated in his ears. It was in these moments that she was nothing short of an angel to him.

His eyes wandered to the large manor beyond the gate. A single window stuck out amougst the many. A white figure, an angel, could be made out through the distant glass. He knew it was her, watching him, wanting him. He needed her.

The rain continued to sprinkle, hardly enough to moisten the dirt beneath their feet. A flash of lightening sounded across the sky, causing everyone to jump in their shoes.

A bullet sounded, a scream ricocheted across the courtyard as glass shattered in the distance.

()()()()()()()()()()

Elizaveta felt like she couldn't breath. Her chest swollen as if her heart had stopped beating. She watched as the men drew their guns, threatening one another. She watched as a light came on in Gilbert's eyes before the lightening struck and the gun went off and Gilbert, the man she loved, fall to the ground.

She didn't care that she screamed loud enough for the whole manor to hear. She didn't care that her arm and hand was cut from punching through the glass of the window, blood exploding all over her forearm. Her Gilbert was shot, probably dying. She couldn't help but scream, scream and cry.

The doors to her room slammed open, her old friend Patrice rushing to her place at the window, pulling her arm from the broken glass as the rain poured outside. She was in hysterics, screaming for Gilbert as Patrice pulled her over to her bed.

"Settle down Elizaveta, settle down," the maid chided.

"He's dying! The father of my child is dying! Somebody please help him! Please help my Gilbert!"

Patrice found herself holding the young woman against the bed as she struggled. But it wasn't for long, eventually she tired out, the wounds on her arm draining her energy, causing her to curl up on her bed in a sobbing, hysterical puddle. It was now pouring outside, water drowning the mud and grass in puddles as the droplets distorted the skyline.

Through all her pain and hysteria only one word fell from her lips, before she slipped off into unconsciousness.

Gilbert.

* * *

><p>AN: In full honestly I don't know what to say about this chapter. Most of it was written while I was half asleep, the other half multi-tasking. The school year is nearly over, so I'll be cranking out essays and study guides for finals pretty soon. So don't expect any updates real soon.

Please pretty please review, lemme know what you think. I really really really really really really need feedback, critiques, anything on this chapter! Hope you enjoyed! Can't wait to hear from all of you! Love you all!


	10. Chapter 10

**Sweet Silesia**

**Chapter Ten**

Roderich couldn't help but show a look of relief and victory. He had won. Beilschmidt wouldn't be coming back for awhile, hopefully never. He tried to conceal the small smirk on his face as he knocked on Elizaveta's bedroom door, but it was nothing short of a failure.

Patrice opened the door, bowing her head subserviently as he entered.

"How is she?" his eyes falling on Elizaveta's sleeping form.

"She hasn't said a word, not since the good doctor fixed up her arm. She's asleep, yet her eyes are open. Its as of the poor girl just had heart torn out."

Slowly he approached her bed, she lay there lifeless with eyes wide open and bandaged arm laying juxtaposed to the rest of her form.

"Elizaveta?" he asked cautiously, sitting on the edge of the bed.

A breath passed through her lips, her eyes never blinking. Her eyes, wide open, stared right at him but they did not see.

"I thought I should tell you this myself, about Beil…Gilbert."

"Gil…?" the pet name fell from her lips in a shallow breath.

"He's gone Elizaveta, he won't be coming back," he tried to say as gently as possible.

A struggled breath met her quivering lips, choking back a silent sob. Finally she did blink, but only to hold back tears.

Roderich reached into his pocket, procuring a small gold piece connected to a chain. "He told me to give this to you."

He placed the object in her palm, closing her fingers over it. He then stood from the bed. "I've spoken with some people, a women in your condition and in your situation should have a husband. When I said I love you, I meant it. We'll have the wedding before the end of the month, it will be small, but official. You won't have to worry about anything from now on. I'll protect you, take care of you...and your child."

She felt a kiss placed on her cheek, she did not acknowledge it nor accept it. She waited until he had left before opening her palm. She sat up when she saw the familiar gold locket, her mother's locket. The locket that had broken when she married Gilbert and the one Gilbert fixed as a birthday present several months later.

Gilbert had brought this for her, he wanted to get her back. So he could give this to her.

She clutched it in her fist, pulling it into her chest as several tears dripped down her cheeks. Ever since she was sixteen he had been such a huge part of her life. The man that made her heart pound in her chest every time he looked her way. The man that made her blush scarlet when he kissed her. The man that made her feel like a queen whenever he held her, whispering how much he loved her.

How could she forget him? How could Roderich expect her to move on so easily? How could he suddenly be gone from her life?

She refused to believe that he was gone for good. Gilbert would never give up so easily. He crawled through a battlefield, severely wounded with a broken leg for her. He always came back. He did always come back, even if it killed him.

()()()()()()()()()()

The trip to the nearest doctor was a haze. The pain and fever blinded him. The bullet wounds in his thigh throbbed painfully. He could steal hear Ludwig's screams from the immense blood lose he endured.

His friends somehow managed to balance him on his horse as they made their way through the Austrian towns, looking for someone who knew how to tend to a wounded soldier.

"If these Austrians are so sophisticated then where the hell is the nearest doctor?" he could hear Francis scream at one point. He could sense desperation in the voices around him. Yet he was certain Francis and Tony yelling at the villagers in their native tongues didn't help their case.

"Can somebody please help my brother? He needs a doctor!" He heard Ludwig plead through his haze. A bystander finally muttered a destination. It was as if the townspeople would only listen to the desperation of a child.

The next thing he remembered was his friends pulling him down from his horse, dragging him into a house, laying him on an operation table. He felt as if he was engulfed in darkness, still and silent. Then lightening shot up and down his leg, strong arms holding him down on the table as he tried to punch the bastard that was hurting him.

Sweat poured down his face, his teeth grinding together painfully trying to ride out the searing pain. He wasn't sure if he cried out or not. A white cloth was pressed to his nose and mouth. Instinctively he tried to shake it away but its hold was firm, forcing him to breath in the disgusting narcotic. It only took a single breath for him to slip away into darkness.

()()()()()()()()()()

_He liked watching her sleep. She looked so peaceful, so pure. Her dark eyelashes spread out over the apples of her cheeks. The long locks of her soft golden hair cascading in elegant curls around her face, down across her soft neck to her chest, barely covering her breasts. _

_He could stare at her for hours, but as the morning sunlight made its way through their bedroom window she began to stir, her refreshed limbs stretching in the sheets while emitting a small moan from her pink lips. It didn't take long for her emeralds to flutter open to find his crimson ones staring down at her. _

_"Do you always watch me when I sleep?" she said, still drowsy but nevertheless with a smile on her face._

_"Of course! Why would I waste my time snoring?" he said chuckling. _

_She smiled, rolling over to stand up from the bed. An arm encircled her waist. "Where are you going?" he snickered. _

_"To get dressed," she said giggling._

_"But I like you like this. I can see everything!" he snickered, kissing her neck and shoulders in-between words. "Every…single…beautiful…detail…"_

_"But Gilbert I'm cold," she replied, his grip around her waist relentless._

_"Close your eyes Ellie, I got something for you."_

_"Nice try Gil, you said the very same thing last night. Frankly my hips still hurt." _

_"No Ellie, this is another present and I really need you to close your eyes."_

_She sighed, placing her palm over her eyes. _

_She felt a heavy pendant being placed on her chest and a chain encircle her neck. _

_"Gil! Did you get me a necklace?"_

_"In a way," he said, securing the clasp. "Open your eyes."_

_She opened her eyes and found her mother's locket around her neck. The clasp felt secure around her neck and it shone in the morning sunlight like a brand new penny. _

_She turned around to face him. "You fixed it!" A large smile on her face. _

_"Happy Birthday Ellie!"_

_She threw her arms around him, kissing him. "Thanks Gilbert."_

_Her legs climbed back on top of the sheets, still kissing him. _

_Gilbert chuckled, "And here I thought I wore you out last night."_

_"That was before you gave me my birthday present," she said straddling him. _

_"I love you Gilbert!" Thank you!"_

_"I love you too Ellie!"_

()()()()()()()()()()

"Is he waking up?"

"I don't know. Why don't you ask him?"

"But he's asleep!"

"Shouldn't that answer your question?"

Gilbert stirred, hearing voices coming from across the room. The pain still radiated through his leg, but too a lesser degree. He tried moving the damaged muscle that was his left leg and he let out a painful groan from the simple movement. Yet he could tell that the bullets where gone and for that he was grateful.

"Gilbert?" came a voice.

"Ellie?" he answered, flickering his eyes open to a dimly lit room.

"I'm sorry mi amigo, but I am not your señorita," came the familiar voice of a Spaniard.

"Tony?" he said, making out his friend's form, standing next to him from where he lay.

"Si! Your finally waking up!"

Gilbert groaned, rubbing his eyes. "How long was I out?"

"About two days. The doctor overdosed the narcotic since you where incredibly restless when we first brought you in." Tony sighed, pouring some wine into a tin cup.

"Where's Ludwig?" he said, his senses clouded and groggy as he sat up, taking the cup from Antonio.

"It's late at night so he's fast asleep. I think the operation scared him."

"He's never liked blood," said Gilbert sipping the wine, flinching at its taste. "This wine tastes like sewage!"

"Thats because it's medicinal," said Tony sitting down in a chair. "The doctor said to give it you when you woke up."

Gilbert glared at him. "I think he meant on the wound, Tony!" Gilbert said, slightly disgruntled.

"How was I supposed to know that? Francis went on and on about why we shouldn't waste good wine on flesh wounds. I just thought it was extremely cheap," Tony explained innocently.

"Believed me, cheap wine tastes better then this crap!" Gilbert exclaimed, trying to spit the taste out of his mouth. "I need a beer," he muttered to himself.

"I think Francis went out to get some."

"You won't find any good beer here in Austria."

"That explains why he's been gone for so long."

"I'd prefer to wait until we're back in Germany," he said, readjusting himself on the table so he could sit up comfortably. Fingering the bandages on his leg, he set the tin cup aside as he undid the bandage. Tossing the bloody bandage aside he eyed the careful stitching in his swollen flesh.

He saw Tony flinch out of the corner of his eye. "That looks like it hurts," he commented.

"I'm used to it," he said, pouring the wine over the wound. The alcohol seeped into the wound in a stinging sensation as it purified the wound. A shiver ran up and down his spine as he drained the cup onto his skin, before re-fastening the bandage around his thigh.

"It never matters what bastard I'm against with a gun, they always shoot me in the leg," He grunted, adjusting the sheets around him.

"How many times?" Tony asked, his curiosity peeked.

"Three," he said pushing the sheet aside, revealing a scarred leg.

He pointed to a bullet wound above his left knee. "This one was when I met Ellie. I couldn't walk and she found me in the woods."

His hand moved to a larger scar that decorated the lower part of his knee and calf. "This one nearly made her a widow two months after I married her."

"And your newest was earned trying to get her back from the Austrian that stole her away," Antonio finished.

"Whenever you need her, something always happens cutting off your way to her. She's your support and the universe seems to enjoy watching as you struggle back to her," Francis's voice suddenly came from the entrance of the room.

"What's thats supposed to mean Francis?" Gilbert nearly snapped.

"You may say that it's me being a hopeless romantic Frenchman, but if you want my opinion just ask," he replied, a shadow falling over his face.

"I'm afraid to ask but only fools are afraid of the truth."

"Theres a difference between honesty and truth. Honesty is subjective to the opinion of the beholder. Truth is the law of the universe and God," Tony muttered, unaware that the others could hear him.

The two stared at the Spaniard, unaware he could be so profound and philosophical. Which was in great contrast to his usual carefree self. "Never thought you could sound so intelligent Tony."

Tony paused. "I'm not sure what your implying but I'll take that as a compliment," he smiled.

Francis kicked open a small crate he had brought in. Glass bottles clinking inside. As the wooden lid fell away he procured several bottles of German beer. Gilbert didn't ask where he found it, he just took the bottle Francis handed him, opened it and took a hearty gulp.

"What where you saying earlier Francis?"

Francis sighed, opening up his own bottle before saying, "You know that I've always been happy for you and Elizaveta. In fact I've envied both of you and how devoted you where to one another. I've never had that, not since Bella."

Gilbert saw Tony twitch in his seat at the mention of Bella. It was still a sensitive subject that was often best avoided. But Francis continued, "You and Elizaveta where inseparable. Even before you where married whenever I saw you your thoughts where of nothing but her. Then one day you stop by my estate with her attached to your waist to tell me you married her six months ago!"

"Where are you going with this Francis?" Gilbert questioned, eyeing his friend darkly.

"Did you guys ever think that you rushed into things? Did you seriously think that there wouldn't be repercussions to your actions? You assisted a servant girl in fleeing her master! You eloped with her even though she was promised to another man, you even impregnated her! Then when you pursue her your leg nearly gets shot off! Have you ever thought that maybe the universe, God, or whatever it is you believe in, is trying to tell you something?"

"I don't believe in any sort of higher power that takes pleasure in depriving us men of our happiness, no matter how pure or sinful it may be. I don't even believe in fate, destiny, or luck for that matter. I do believe in life and it comes as it does. It was my life, my choices, that brought me to Ellie. It never steered my grandfather wrong and it never steered me wrong! How is it suddenly wrong? The only thing I see wrong here is Roderich's selfishness…and your attitude," Gilbert replied darkly.

Francis took a swig of his own beer. "Then how exactly do you intend to get her back? You stick a gun in Edelstein's face and he nearly had you shot dead. You steal her away in the dead of night again and he'll find you, especially since he knows where you live now. You and Elizaveta can run, but as long as Edelstein wants her he'll pursue her, and you will always be running, running and hiding. Is that the life you want for her? For your child? Always on the run, constantly having to look over your shoulders, never knowing a real home and friends. Never being able to sleep free of worry. Tell me Gilbert! Is that the life you really want for them?"

"You've forgotten that I will soon be a general. Running will not be necessary! I'll be able to protect them!" Gilbert snapped back.

"Do you really think that that life will be any better? After so long they will want to breathe, even you will eventually. Plus the higher in the ranks you are the more people talk. Rumors can destroy your reputation and deplete your chances of promotion, maybe even end your career!"

"What are you trying to do here Francis?" Gilbert exclaimed in frustration, nearly shouting. "Are you trying to end my marriage and forsake my wife and child? What kind of man do you take me for?"

"I'm trying to be the voice of reason, Gilbert!" Francis responded through gritted teeth.

From his sitting place Antonio watched the two friends quarrel. He had never seen such expressions of rage exchanged between the two. Both made valid points, while his own opinion formed in his head.

"What do you think Tony?" Gilbert suddenly asked him, his two closest companions glaring at him. He could tell by their expressions that they hoped his voice would be the voice of reason for their own arguments. He nervously swallowed a lump in his throat.

"Well?" Francis asked impatiently.

Slowly Antonio opened his mouth as he wrung his hands in his lap. "Gilbert…I know how much it hurts to know that you can't be with the one you love."

He stared up to find Gilbert's jaw clenched, his eyebrows furrowed angrily. He swallowed another lump as he continued. "You nearly died out there. I could hear Elizaveta scream after the guns fired. I've seen how much she loves you, many times over. Imagine the grief she would be feeling right now knowing that you where dead. "

"What are you saying?"

"I… I think its best to forget about her. For now at least. Even though she's stuck with Roderich, I think she'll at least have some sense of hope, or find some happiness knowing that your alive. If God in heaven wants you to be together He will find that path for you, but until then…it's best to just wait. Wait and pray!" Tony finished, trying to meet Gilbert's gaze.

"Why would I pray to something to I can't even see? Besides…I don't like anything that can bring a grown man to his knees," Gilbert nearly growled at the Spaniard. Tony lowered his head. He knew Gilbert wouldn't like what he had to say.

Francis couldn't help but nod his head in a silent form of agreement.

Gilbert drained his beer and threw the bottle across the room, shattering on the wall between his two friends. Gilbert lay back down on the operation table in a huff, turning away from the other men in the room. Francis and Tony exchanged looks before departing the room. He needed time to face the truth on his own.

_"If its meant to be its meant to be. Who knows? You just might find each other someday."_

* * *

><p>AN: Yeah I couldn't leave you guys with that sort of cliffhanger! I actually started writing this chapter right after I uploaded the last one. Even as the writer cliff hangers get to me, believe it or not. Plus ten is a good number to stop at right before I bury myself in exams, finals, essays, and study sessions.  
>I was pretty amazed at how much of this chapter seemed to write itself, I had a small ideas in my head and the rest just filled itself in. Then again me and my two friends seemed to resemble the BTT in a very uncanny way. Seriously, that is how we act around each other!<br>I never intended to define the characters philosophically and theologically, that just happened. For Antonio I pretty much went off the stereotype and history of Spain, since from what I've read there seems to be long history of devout Catholicism. Francis seems to be a natural designer of sorts, believes in greater power but is scientific/logical about it. And Gilbert, despite the Teutonic Knighthood and everything, he comes off to me as a sort of atheist. I could be wrong about this with these characters but it fit the story and the situation. Also, this is a work of fiction, no insult was intended if there where any within this chapter. And if there was I'm sincerely sorry.

Anyway...unfortunately you shouldn't expect an update until the end of May or beginning of June. As I said early I will be extremely busy. Please review lemme know what you think about this chapter, **what you think will happen**, _where I could improve, etc etc. _

Also check out my Tumblr, Fandomistas For Hetalia. Its a bunch of fan art I find on the internet, but hey give it a shot ;)

Thanks you all so much for the wonderful reviews last time. Keep it up! Hope you all enjoyed! Can't wait to hear from you! Love ya!


	11. Chapter 11

**Sweet Silesia**

**Chapter 11**

Years later he would remember the ecstatic atmosphere that had taken over the village as they prepared for the wedding of the decade. Craftsman working day and night, ribbons and banners flying throughout the streets as children played and maids bustling with work, and above all the endless sunshine.

He hated it. He hated all of it. The sunshine, the smiles, the ribbons, everything. He watched it all from the window by his hospital bed with the greatest disdain. At night he would turn over his matchbox in his hand, thinking of whether or not he should set fire to it all. He smirked as he sipped his wine, thinking of watching it all go up in flames as the man that stole his wife burnt to a crisp. He would laugh through his drunken haze and Ludwig would rise from his sleep to hide the alcohol from his brother just as Gilbert dozed off.

It wasn't hard for Ludwig to see that his brother was hurting, physically and mentally. If it was up to Gilbert they would have moved far from the reaches of the Edelstein's power. But yet Roderich's arm was long and his celebrations reached the town they had taken refuge in.

They where lucky that the village was too busy to question, let alone notice, the german with the gun wound and his other foreign friends. Only the doctor knew of their existence and had told them it would be best to remain under his care until Gilbert had fully recovered. Gilbert felt as if he was receiving a death sentence as the doctor advised this. He wanted to get Ellie and get out of Austria, as quickly as possible. But the doctor's orders where final. He wasn't going anywhere.

He would remain. He would endure this hell. And he would pray that his beloved Ellie would not forget him.

The wedding bells rang early on that accursed day. The sound of the church bells rang loudly, reverberating the glass of the window by Gilbert's bed. No bells rang for their wedding, only the sweet sound of song birds on that quite afternoon.

He lay there half asleep on his bed sheets, the vibrations of the bells breaking the already weakened ramparts of his subconscious. He was falling apart, on the very edge of loosing his entire sanity. His hand grasped the pistol that lay atop his neatly folded clothes on his bedside. His half lidded eyes and glazed pupils blind to his bodies physical actions.

"GILBERT!" came Ludwig's voice.

Gilbert's eyes shot open and only then did he lower the barrel from his mouth.

()()()()()()()()()()

_She shivered on the bed, her nude form exposed as it lay in the plush sheets. Her arms where crossed over her chest, trying to conceal her bare breasts and ease the goosebumps that had emerged all over her body. Her garments lay scattered across the floor from Gilbert removing the layers that made up her dress. She felt as if he was slowly unwrapping her, like a fragile gift. She was his bride, her virginity was her present to him. _

_Her eyes fell on Gilbert, who stood a few feet from the bed, removing his own clothing. She blushed at the sight of his bare chest, sculpted broad shoulders, and long muscled limbs. She found herself averting her eyes as he let his trousers fall to the floor._

_Elizaveta felt the bed shift as Gilbert crawled onto the bed next to her. She felt his breath on her cheek and his hand at her waist. More blush began to gather at her cheeks. She was never this nervous around him._

_"You look beautiful Elizaveta," he whispered in her ear, before placing himself on top of her, pining her between the bed sheets and his broad chest. _

_Their lips met, soft and chaste at first then steadily grew as did Gilbert's hunger for her. His tongue penetrated her mouth, exploring its crevices. _

_Slowly wrapping her arms around him she placed her palms atop his shoulder blades. His weight on top of her shifted, slowly widening her legs so he could nestle himself at the crevice of her core. _

_Her lips paused in their dance with his, her green emeralds starring up into his crimson orbs with surprise and fear. She felt herself shiver again, even though the heat that radiated off of Gilbert was overwhelming. _

_As if knowing her thoughts he wrapped his arms tightly around her, pulling her into a comforting embrace. _

_He placed kisses on the corners of her lips, cheeks, neck, and collarbone. "I love you Ellie," he whispered in her ear. _

_She felt something poise at her entrance and widened her legs as if to try and lessen the impending pain. _

_With a single move of his hips, pain possessed her senses. A yelp of pain escaped her lips as her fingernails dug into the skin of his shoulder blades. _

_Her breath felt heavy against his cheek, where he kissed her once more. "I'm sorry Ellie," he whispered apologetically. _

_"Its okay," she whispered back, her legs shaking as her muscle tissue was ripped and stretched to accommodate his size. "_

_"It's worth it. I'm yours forever now aren't I?"_

_He pressed his forehead against hers, looking deep into her eyes. "Your mine as long as I'm yours, love."_

_"And always will be," she whispered back before he kissed her._

_Slowly he began to thrust in and out of her, his movements gentle and aware of her pain. Step by step he pulled small but pleasurable reactions from her body, heightening his own excitement. It took nearly all his self control to not ravage her for all she was worth, like the animal within him yearned for. _

_A small touch to the breast. A deep breathless kiss. The unbearable warmth that radiated off of both their bodies. The indulgence of such a private and vulnerable moment. _

_Despite the embarrassment of her inexperience and the pain that permeated her core, she had never felt closer to anyone else before. It was then she understood why the head maid Patrice went on and on about waiting till she found herself a husband, the very same woman who mothered an illegitimate child as a result of a summer affair. _

_With every small thrust she could feel their bond strengthen, as a few droplets of fresh blood trickled from in-between her thighs. She was his wife now and he her husband. _

_"Gilbert," she moaned breathlessly as he came holding her hips in place as he filled her with himself. _

_He slowly rolled off of her, taking her into his arms._

_A twinge of pain shot through her core as she rolled onto her side, curling up next to him. A spot of fresh blood caught her eye, noticing the stain she had made on the fresh white sheets. _

_Wrapping themselves around one another they curled up under the quilts that they had pushed aside earlier and drifted off to sleep in their own world, their own peaceful oblivion. _

()()()()()()()()()()

She had told herself that she wouldn't cry. She had shed enough tears these past few weeks and refused to cry any more. But yet her heart still burned with heartache. Why hadn't he come for her? Didn't he love her as he had told her a million times over? Was he even alive anymore?

It was too late now. Their elopement was void and she now belonged to another man.

She heard the door to her bedroom open and now familiar footsteps enter the room. Roderich had come for her and she felt her breath hitch. She clutched the locket in her hand, hiding it in her palm as the maid departed from the room.

She felt Roderich's shadow loom over her as she sat on the edge of the bed

"Know that I love you Elizaveta, I always have. From the moment I met you. I will always treasure you."

She found his words sugarcoated, if not excessive. Yet within moments she found herself beneath him, her legs spread wide as he settled himself between her thighs. Before she could say anything she felt him hastily enter her, making a squeal of surprise escape her lips.

Kisses peppered her face as he began to pound into her. At first she tried to ignore the hormones that raced throughout her body. Clutching the locket in her fist her hands gripped the sheets beneath her, as she retreated into the crevices of her mind as Roderich pulled the desired responses from her body.

_I thought you said that you would always be mine._

Turning her line of sight to the left, letting her cheek graze the pillow, there he stood in full military uniform. Her red-eyed Prussian soldier.

How was this happening?

She clenched her eyes shut, this had to be a dream. If he where here he would probably be shooting Roderich for what he was doing to her, not torturing her conscience.

Roderich's lips fell on her neck, sucking her tender flesh. Elizaveta opened her eyes, the pressure that reverberated throughout her core intensifying, heavy breaths escaped her lips as her body yearned for release. He was no longer there. She was alone with Roderich, a small relief fell from her shoulders.

'I would always be yours if you where always mine,' she thought to herself. A hint of nostalgia washing over her, followed by sadness.

_Why did you betray me Ellie and give yourself to my arch enemy? _

His voice found her ears again. A squeal escaped her lips as Roderich's lips found her most sensitive spot. Suddenly he was there again, standing above where she lay.

'Why didn't you come for me? I waited for you!'

Tears ebbed her eyes. The locket felt slippery in her hand.

_I gave you everything Ellie! I freed you from prison, I gave you a home and a family, provided for you. All I ever wanted was your love and loyalty. Yet you repay me with this treachery?_

She couldn't ignore the hurt and disdain in his voice and it killed her. She never wanted anyone to get hurt.

'I love you Gilbert'

_Thats no longer good enough!_

'Forgive me!'

She felt her knees shake, her climax near.

_I was dying before you came along. I was just a mindless soldier who followed orders, there was no purpose for me but to die on the battlefield. _

The apparition removed the pistol from his belt.

'Don't...'

_You gave me a purpose. Without you why should I still be here?_

'Please…!'

Roderich's hand groped her breast, his pace quickening. Completely oblivious to her mental torment. Her hand that held the locket released its grip on the sheets, extending her hand outward to the soldier.

The apparition raised the pistol to his head.

_You were everything to me Ellie! _

'NO!'

An explosion rang throughout her mind as her climax hit. Her body twitching and convulsing underneath Roderich. The locket fell from her hand, clattering to the wooden floorboards as tears streamed down her cheeks.

'Gilbert…'

Roderich didn't notice her tears until his own climax came moments later. Elizaveta's eyes where clenched shut, the moisture lining her eyelids and streaking down her cheeks in translucent rivers.

He placed a chaste kiss on her forehead. "I'm sorry," he murmured, before standing from the bed, donning his robe and slippers before departing for his room. He had had her and he was satisfied, for now.

Hearing the door shut behind Roderich, Elizaveta could no longer hold back her tears and let the sobs rack her body, crying into one of the goose-feather pillows.

There was no denying the truth now. She had broken his heart and he had broken hers.

Her hand fell to her growing belly. It was becoming more obvious through her clothing. Roderich had paid extra for her wedding dress to hide the growing bulge. He was ashamed of what Gilbert was proud of.

More tears flowed down her cheeks as memories of Gilbert kissing her belly resurfaced. The man couldn't hide his enthusiasm for his future child.

He would have made a wonderful father, yet Roderich would definitely keep them apart. She was forbidden to see Gilbert and so would the baby.

She wrapped her arms around her torso possessively. Gilbert was still with her, even though he was gone. All that she had left of him grew in her belly, and she would never let it go.

* * *

><p>AN: Finally I'm back and writing! School year finally came to a close and I was able to write again. I had so much fun writing this chapter, which is kind of a weird thing to say since its probably my darkest yet. But nevertheless I hope you enjoyed please pretty please lemme know what you think of it by leaving a review! Luv ya all!


	12. Chapter 12

**Sweet Silesia**

**Chapter 12**

Home. The term no longer fit right. Now it was just a house, a house with broken beams, windows, and furniture. The infrastructure was torn apart from its very core, nearly shattered.

Gilbert was silent as he approached the wreckage with Ludwig in tow. He barely uttered a syllable as Hilga greeted them, the old maid could barely make out a simple nod from the man.

Together the three sat at a silent supper in the remnants of the kitchen. Distant and forgotten laughter vibrating throughout the shattered wood.

Hilga could see the damaged soul behind her master's crimson orbs as he nibbled on a piece of moderately stale bread. The elderly woman thought fondly of Elizaveta, the love and admiration Gilbert demonstrated for her and above all her genuine kindness. Hilga could see now that Gilbert needed her in his life more then she originally thought.

"Where is Frau Beilschmidt?" she asked timidly curious about her mistress.

Gilbert paused, two sets of eyes gazing at him with concern.

"She's gone." He finally said. "And she's not coming back."

His bread abruptly dropped to his plate as he stood and left the table. It was then Hilga knew she was the servant of a broken home.

()()()()()()()()()()

Months passed. He dreaded going to bed alone. At one point he seriously considered drinking himself to sleep, but he resisted for Ludwig's sake. Instead Gilbert spent his days and most of his nights rebuilding the broken furnishings of the house. He quickly found that the intricate skill work helped him take his mind off the world, distracting him from the pain of a torn soul.

Day in and day out he shaved, carved, cut, and nailed pieces of wood together. Forming and reforming chairs, tables, armoires, bookshelves, and bedposts. The list was endless and for once he was thankful that he had a lot of work to do.

Spring became summer and summer became fall yet he continued to work, work until perfection was restored. He didn't care if it was futile. The leaves where just turning crisp and brown as the hooves of a single horse neared his home. He reached for his gun, but the sight of Antonio relaxed him thus he released the handle.

"Hey Tony," Gilbert greeted half heartily, standing from his work bench and wiping his dirtied hands on a cloth.

Antonio dismounted his horse, approached Gilbert and embraced him a little too tightly.

"Tony, what are you doing?" Gilbert gasped through the Spaniard's embrace.

"I'm sorry mi amigo. I feel as though we should celebrate, yet Francis thought it would be better if you didn't know. "

"Better if I didn't know what?" Gilbert asked suspiciously.

The Spaniard released his embrace at last, allowing GIlbert to breath.

"Elizaveta…" Tony slowly began.

Gilbert stiffened at the mere mention of her name. The name he had gone months without saying. A part of him wanted to curse himself for it.

"Elizaveta has given birth. You're a father now Gilbert."

()()()()()()()()()()()

_It was mid February when she told him. A blizzard hollered loud and long outside that night, flurries upon flurries of snowflakes raced for the ground. The weather was horrid, yet they didn't mind for they lay intertwined in one another, a single blanket wrapped around them as they lay at the hearth of a warm, blazing fire. Sweat coated their naked bodies, fresh from several rounds of love-making. _

_He lay there wasted and worn from his wife's voracious appetite, which he had tried and failed many times to quench. Her sex flexing against his member told him that she was still hungry for more. Her red swollen lips kissed the corners of his mouth and cheeks. This made him smile. He loved the way she kissed him. She lay on top of him, her hands drawing circles on his muscled chest and thighs clenching his hips possessively._

_"Are you not tired Ellie?" he finally asked. "You have succeeded in wearing me out," he chuckled. _

_"I thought we where celebrating," she smiled, still kissing him. _

_He eyed her then. "Celebrating what?"_

_"Something tells me that it will work this time. I just know that everything will be okay."_

_"What are you talking about Ellie?"_

_"I'm pregnant Gilbert," she beamed at him. _

_He simply stared at her for a long silent moment before embracing her tightly, kissing her all over. _

_"I take it that you are happy," she giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck. _

_"I'm always happy when I am sharing my life with you."_

_()()()()()()()()()()_

Elizaveta let a single tear fall down her cheek as she held her beautiful infant daughter in her arms. The small child slept quietly in the blankets the nurses clad her in, tiny red fingers trying to push the foreign cloth away.

For hours she just held her child as she lay on her bed, her body weary from hours of child birth. Around her the nurses and maids bustled with the changing of clean sheets and preparing the room for the infant as well as the presentation of the newborn to her mother's husband.

Elizaveta didn't care. She just wanted to be alone with her daughter, with her real husband still beside her and possiblely cooing over their child like she was.

"So what is her name?" Roderich's voice suddenly sounded at the foot of her bed.

She gazed at him for a few moments, before saying,"Sylvia."

"Sylvia Edelstein. It's a good name," Roderich responded gazed at the infant, a look of jealousy flashed across his face. "She's beautiful," he said before he abruptly leaving the room.

()()()()()()()()()()

"Is she alright?"

"She and the baby are fine, strong even."

"Is it…?"

"I'm sorry but I don't know. Francis's spy got booted from the estate. We have no idea whats going on in there now."

* * *

><p>AN: I love writing I love writing I love writing this story! One thing I would love even more would be more reviews! Seriously though, my editor is giving me other things to work on, write, and research. If you want me to continue I need reminders that I have readers who want to know what happens to these broken lovers, because this story is far from over. In fact it is only beginning, believe it or not. Please review! Tell me anything, and I mean anything that is on your mind! Questions comments concerns. Your thoughts help me write better.

Also, I went with the name Sylvia because it sounded the most like Silesia. It might not make sense now but the child actually represents the Silesia province in Germany, of course now it is part of Poland but back then it was a German territory. All hetalia fans should know how that happened. lol. Someone actually drew fan art, personifying the province. She kinda looks like Poland, but I think its a mix between Germany and Hungary. Mwa Ha Ha!


	13. Chapter 13

**Sweet Silesia**

**Chapter 13**

Gilbert breathed a heavy sigh as he approached the office of his commanding officer. He had faced the man many times before, but whenever he was abruptly called to his office while on duty or received a summons from home out of nowhere he couldn't help but think of the worst possibilities.

War. Being demoted. The death of a comrade. Being charged with treason. Prison. Execution.

He pushed the thoughts away from his mind as he knocked on the officer's door. A gruff voice from within told him to enter.

"General Beilschmidt!" his commander greeted in his usual gruff, hearty voice.

"Sir," he returned, saluting.

"How is the wife doing?" he inquired mindlessly, placing bits of tobacco in his pipe.

Gilbert stiffened. It had been four long years since he last saw Elizaveta. Yet the simple, careless mention of her still caused a painful tug on his heartstrings.

"She was fine the last I saw her back home, sir."

"Well then I hope she won't mind you being away a little while longer." He struck a match, causing the tobacco to smoke which he inhaled into his mouth that was hidden behind his thick mustache.

"I don't think she will mind, sir. Why?"

"Because I'm giving you an assignment. The aged austrian emperor lies sick and dying on his deathbed. You and several other officers will be accompanying the Austrian ambassador, as well as several other politicians which we soldiers don't care about to a conference somewhere on the outskirts of Vienna. Your job is to keep the peace and make sure no harm comes to our trusted officials," the commander said between puffs of smoke.

"May I ask why?"

"The conference is to confirm or deny the heir to the Austrian throne, as well as the Queen of Hungary. If rumor holds true and it is the Emperor's daughter, then we are at war. Which is why I'm going to give you these instructions to spy on Austrian officials, to find the countries weaknesses and strongpoints and above all who their most powerful allies will be. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Good," the commander grinned. "Gather your men. Tell them to be ready to depart to the Edelstein Manor in Vienna with those blasted politicians in twenty-four hours."

He would have preferred being executed.

()()()()()()()()()()

"Slyvia! Come here Slyvia!"

The toddler turned away from the garden running back toward the house as fast as she could toward her mother.

"Momma! Momma!" she smiled as her mother scooped her up into her arms, balancing her daughter on her hip. "I found these for you!" the child beamed holding out a fistful of flowers that she had picked, dirt still hanging off the roots.

"Oh! Their beautiful sweetheart!" Elizaveta smiled, kissing her daughter on the cheek, taking the flowers from her small hands. "Lets find them a vase shall we."

Gently she placed her daughter down, opening a cupboard to procure a simple ceramic vase. Once it was filled with water she placed the flowers inside. Half of them where roughly picked, having been pulled out by the roots and two of them where weeds from the edge of the forest. But Elizaveta didn't mind, her daughter had the best intentions and she was wholeheartedly touched by the gesture.

She watched as the little girl danced around the room to a little tune that she sang under her breath. The mother giggled, watching her daughter play so carelessly.

It was then Roderich entered. He was caught of guard at the sight of mother and daughter laughing. He watched Elizaveta smile in the sunlight. She never smiled like that for him and a part of him was saddened by it. Her smile quickly faded when she caught sight of his presence, yet little Sylvia continued to dance without a care.

"What is it Mr. Edelstein?" she asked, straightening her posture.

"I hope you haven't made any plans for Thursday night."

"No. I haven't. Why?"

"A political conference will be taking place here and as the lady of the house I need you to act as hostess, greeting ambassadors and such. Nothing your not used too." He stood beside her now, eyeing Sylvia.

Elizaveta nodded. "Of course. I'm guessing you will want me to get a new dress?"

"Do you have any gowns in silk red?"

"No."

"Then yes. I'll have the seamstress sent for this evening before supper." He turned to leave.

"What countries will be attending?" she asked suddenly. He had hoped she wouldn't ask that, for he had seen the security roster just a few minutes ago. His stomach dropped when he saw that Beilschmidt was on that list. Never had an simple security guard threatened him so with his uniform and his mind. He made a mental note to himself then to have Sylvia put to bed early and kept under close watch, so Beilschmidt would not try to reclaim his rightful daughter. If Sylvia was lost, then Elizaveta would be lost for sure.

"Most of europe, including Russia and England. Not that it concerns you."

"As the hostess I believe that it does concern me greatly," Elizaveta snapped as Roderich disappeared from view. It was a few moments before she heard the piano begin to play a deep melancholy tune. For reasons unknown she found herself filled with longing. For whom she did not know.

It was late that night when she had finally broken out of the musical trance. It was late that night when she found herself laying next to Roderich who was fast asleep. Her body felt sticky from the sweat and rigor of love making. A knot twisted in her stomach.

She slowly stood from the bed, straightened her nightgown and donned her robe, making her way to her daughters bedroom. Her feet felt as if they where walking on ice on the cold marble floor, she could already hear the reprimand of the maids for walking about the corridors without her slippers. She could care less.

She felt the weight of the locket in her pocket as she entered her daughter's room, the locket she had so cleverly hidden all these years. A false bottom in the drawer, a secret pocket in her skirts.

Her daughter was nearly five years old and had yet to let the word 'father' fall from her lips. The girl felt no attachment to Roderich, a trait that Elizaveta was slightly thankful for. Nevertheless she felt that she had to know. Despite everything, she still loved Gilbert, like a small flame that refused to be put out but withered with every passing day.

The child was fast asleep on her small bed, the covers kicked away from a sleeping fit leaving her curled up in her nightgown on the sheets. Her blond hair was sprawled across the pillow in messy tendrils. Even in the darkness Elizaveta could make out its golden glow. It was just like her Uncle Ludwig's, only brighter and looked nearly white when it was in the sunshine.

"Sweetheart," Elizaveta spoke softly, gently shaking her daughter's shoulder.

Sylvia moaned into her pillow, not wanting to be woken from her light slumber. "Sylvia, can you wake up for me?"

"Momma?" the child squeaked, rubbing her eyes.

"I have something for you."

"Can it wait until tomorrow?"

Elizaveta suppressed a chuckle, she was so much like her father.

"No sweetheart, this is something Roderich must never know about. Can you keep a secret for momma?"

Sylvia nodded into her pillow.

Elizaveta reached into her pocket and procured the locket, the golden sphere gleaming in the candlelight.

It was then Sylvia sat up in her bed, eyeing the heirloom.

"This locket was given to me by my mother when I wasn't that much older then you. The day I married your father…"

"My father?"

"Yes sweetheart. Your father Gilbert Beilschmidt, not Roderich."

"What's the difference?"

"The blood is the difference. If Gilbert is here he would say that Beilschmidt blood runs deep in your veins and it does."

"Then where is he? Why isn't he here?" Confusion and sadness was written all across her daughter's face.

A weight sunk in Elizaveta's stomach. "I don't know sweetheart. I really don't know."

She had told herself that she wouldn't cry in front of her daughter.

Sylvia having sensed her mother's distress curled up in her mother's lap, wrapping her small arms around her.

For a few moments mother and daughter cradled one another, holding each other close. Eventually they released their grip and Elizaveta placed the locket in her daughter's hands. "Open it."

Releasing the latch, the locket clicked open. Inside was a small drawing, a likeness of Elizaveta many years ago in Prussia.

"Momma your pretty!"

"Thanks sweetheart, look at the other picture."

Sylvia tilted the locket in the light to reveal the face of another woman, an older drawing from even longer ago. "Thats your grandmother, my own mother. She died when I was very young. But theres still another picture for you to see."

"But there is only two in here."

"Thats because you only see two." Elizaveta took the locket from her daughter's hand and pushed aside the picture of herself, behind it was another drawing hidden from plain view except for those that knew it was there. Elizaveta pulled the small likeness from the locket and showed it to her daughter.

Sylvia gazed at the portrait for what seemed like an eternity. It was a portrait of a man with pale hair and a thin face. His expression was serious yet laughable at the same time. His clothes where that is military style, and it donned on her that he was a soldier. She traced her fingers across the hardened parchment, wishing the picture to come alive so she could hear his voice.

"This is your father sweetheart," Elizaveta whispered in her daughters ear, treating it like the secret it was.

"I know."

()()()()()()()()()()

It was a little over an hour before Sylvia drifted back off to sleep and Elizaveta tip-toed out of the room suppressing her own urge to yawn. She carefully closed the door, being ever so cautious about the simple click re-waking her child.

"It's a little late for a bedtime story don't you think?"

Elizaveta jumped where she stood, immediately turning around to find Roderich standing right beside the door frame.

"Roderich what are you doing here?"

"I think I should be asking you the same thing."

"Is it suddenly wrong for a mother to spend time with her child?

Roderich sighed. "Come. Lets go back to bed?"

He offered her his arm and instinctively she took it as he led her back to her chamber.

"What did you guys talk about?"

"Nothing of great importance. Why does it concern you?"

"It concerns me because I don't want you filling her head up with frivolity and fantasy. I don't care what you say but I care about the girl. She's special, just like you where."

"And of course the only way to save her is to prevent her from becoming like me," she responded, sarcasm lining her words.

Roderich came to a sudden halt, just a few feet from her bedroom doors. Elizaveta nearly tripped over her own feet.

"Why do you think that Beilschmidt has not come back? Why do you think that he will not be coming back?" Roderich said darkly.

"Since when is it up to you to decide?" she said through clenched teeth.

"Since you refuse to accept the fact that he is gone Elizaveta!"

A stone weight dropped in her stomach. "Since when it is a matter of what I believe and what I don't believe. Its my business, not yours."

He gripped her forearm tightly, pulling her closer to him. "If he loved you he would have come back long ago. Yet where is he? Where has he been all these years? Because I will tell you where!" he snarled.

"Stop it," she whimpered, tears edging her eyes.

"Fucking tavern whores and bar maids is what he would be doing. Drinking till he's drunk in pubs and gambling away his pitiful wages. Is that the kind of man you would want to be associated with let alone be married too? He may have loved you when he first married you, but a man of his trade and status can only love someone for so long. He would have tired of you and moved on, as they always do."

She tore her arm from his grip, forcing her tears to be kept at bay. She glared at him, wanting to scream and call him a liar for the whole manor to hear. But the words got caught in her throat and she disappeared into her chambers in a flight of fear. Wrapping her arms around her chest on the verge of sobbing, she found herself realizing that she believed him and that her worst fears where coming true.

* * *

><p>AN: And at long last here it is: the 13th chapter! I feel like leaping for joy, but I am nevertheless exhausted since this summer has proven itself to be a busy one. I don't know when I'll have the next one ready, but hopefully your reviews will inspire me. *hint*hint*wink*wink*

Love you all and thank you for your patience! Hope you enjoyed and will continue to enjoy!


	14. Chapter 14

**Sweet Silesia**

**Chapter 14**

The day of the conference came quickly. After spending over a week escorting the carriage procession as it traveled between countries Gilbert was more then eager to sink into a dingy tavern with a good beer and a young serving wench under his arm. But the long journey ensured that it would not be an option. The slow procession made them late, which upon their arrival left them just enough time for a bath and a change of clothes.

Gilbert's heart pounded in his chest as he donned his fine linen trousers, starched white shirt and decorative military jacket. Straightening the cuffs of his shirt Ludwig's words of farewell echoed in his mind, "No matter what happens, keep a level head. Promise me that bruder."

Even as Ludwig continued to grow and begin a life of his own he still expressed concern in Gilbert's mental health, wether or not it was wanted.

A knock on the door signaled that his men where ready and waiting for him. Smoothing back his hair he placed his feathered try-corner hat on his head and departed the room.

The events of recent years had put him through many personal hells. Some of which he chose to completely ignore, refusing reality, just to ease the onslaught of flames.

Would tonight bring about the birth of another personal hell?

If so, how would it be possible to keep a level head then?

()()()()()()()()()()

"Why can't I go momma?" Sylvia pouted.

"Because a sweet girl like you doesn't want to spend an evening listening to boring old men," Elizaveta chided lovingly.

"Then why are you going?"

It was Elizaveta's turn to frown. "Because momma has too."

Patrice entered the room, finding mother and daughter laying side by side on the bed. "Mrs. Edelstein," she began. "The ambassadors are beginning to arrive."

Elizaveta sighed, not wanting to release the hold she had on her daughter. To her it was her only source of solace and at times her only cling to sanity.

"Now you be a good girl and listen to Patrice. Promise?"

"I promise." With that Elizaveta passed her child into Patrice's arms, feeling the weight of the locket under her daughter's nightgown. She couldn't help but smile yet frown as Patrice left the room.

"Goodnight momma," Sylvia chirped, vanishing from view.

Sitting in the chair of her vanity she let the hairdressers and makeup artists descend on her. Within a timespan of ten minutes her long locks where plaited and curled against her scalp, embossed with fresh flowers from the garden. While her face was powdered and decorated until she was as flawless as greek marble statue.

Standing from the vanity her freshly tailored dress was fashioned around her corseted form. Slippers where soon slipped onto her feet, pronouncing her ready to perform her duties for the night.

She knew this day would come, she never thought it would be as gilded as it was nor the form it would take. She swallowed a lump in her throat as she left her room and found Roderich's arm to lace with hers.

The cryer announced the arrival of the first ambassador and his party. The German territory of Prussia.

Recognizing the blue and red uniform, her heart sank.

()()()()()()()()()()

He did his best to keep hidden from view. His head bowed low, letting the broad hat shield his eyes in shadow. After the ambassadors had said their greetings they made their way into the ball room. He caught a glimpse of her as he passed. She was all done up and primed to resemble the perfection of a porcelain doll. A smile was painted on her face as she greeted the following ambassador and his party.

But it was only painted, only temporary.

The storm in her eyes said otherwise.

()()()()()()()()()()

Needless to say, the opening ball was a success. The wives of the ambassadors, as well as the other party members filled the room with laughter and enjoyable chatter. Musicians played, encouraging the usual stoicism of the politicians and soldiers to fade away. Glasses of champagne where passed around, causing all the more excitement amidst the crowd.

Once or twice Gilbert was passed a glass, he scavenged several more on his own, eager for the intoxication.

Interrupting his Lieutenant who was in the midst of conversation with a young woman he asked, "Did you complete the task I gave you earlier?"

"Not quiet yet sir. More will be spoken of later in the night when things become more serious. Please sir, have a drink and relax. Enjoy the party!"

"I've lost count of the glasses that have passed through my hands tonight Lieutenant."

"Then why don't you have a dance?" he smiled.

Gilbert raised an eyebrow before the lieutenant turned his gaze to the woman beside him.

"Monique, would you mind joining my commander in a dance?"

"As long as you promise me the next one," she grinned.

Within moments he found himself dancing with the attractive woman in a whirl of other couples.

She smiled at him as he caressed the small of her back. Her red lips emitted words as she attempted conversation. He replied as best he could, but his mind was elsewhere. Focused completely on the woman with the sad green eyes.

"Are you married General Beilschmidt?"

"I was."

"Was? What happened to your wife?"

"She's gone, along with our child."

"No wonder your men say you are a sad man."

"I'm a sad man?"

"You carry your grief on your shoulders for the world to see. She was a lucky woman to have a man who loved her so much."

He felt Elizaveta's eyes on him from across the room and in those slow minutes he hoped against hope that the room wasn't vibrating from his ever loud and ever quickening heartbeat.

He was thankful when the song ended and the young woman, whose name he never bothered to learn was swept away into the arms of another man as the next song began.

Seconds passed and he stood there on the dance floor, alone. The laughing couples that circled him suddenly became shark-like with their questioning glares. Standing at the heart of all he hated, he had never felt so cursed to be alone.

A lock of golden-brown hair suddenly grazed the corner of his eye and a warm hand enveloped his own.

"Dance with me."

It wasn't a request but a demand.

Without another thought he swept her into his arms, twirling once more in the haze of dancing, holding her as close as the dance would permit.

For those short beautiful moments nothing was wrong with the world. No heartbreak or pain. No child kept away never to be known. There was only bliss, serenaded by the sweet music. He longed to stare deep into her emeralds, but they where closed, as if she didn't want to wake from the dream and ease the pain of leaving him once more.

The song ended and she vanished. Leaving him alone once again.

He spent the next hour searching for her amidst the crowd, but she was gone.

He knew he was being pathetic, but he had to see her again. He had to know the truth. The truth about so many questions left unanswered.

He found a young maid refilling the champagne.

"Pardon me but where has the lady of the manor gone too?"

He paused, realizing the possible scandal he could cause with his words. He knew how maids loved to gossip. He soon continued, "I wish to give her my thanks for the evening and my regrets for departing so early."

He hated being so irritably formal, especially when he didn't mean it.

"The lady has retired for the evening on account of her health. But she does extend her condolences to all her guests."

He thanked the maid, told his lieutenant he was retiring for the night and quit the house, exiting out the front door.

He spotted a footmen, ready to fetch his horse from the stables. He ignored the servant, gesturing that he was walking. The footmen nodded, assuming he was another drunk german.

Gilbert felt the buzz in the back of his head. He knew he was tipsy, but far from drunk.

He crept around the interior of the manor. The bright, serene atmosphere of light and cheerful music seeped through the large windows. Now foreign to the dark and bleak night where he resided.

He hopped over the garden fence, watching for even the smallest aspect of life. Through the darkness he could see the woods where he first laid eyes on his Ellie.

He crept pass the bustle of the kitchen to the housing wing, adorned with balconies and overgrown vines amongst the bricks and trellises.

He had half a thought to scale the vines and sneak into her chamber, like a traditional forlorn lover would do. Yet his thoughts where interrupted by a child's voice.

"I can see the moon momma!"

His gaze shot upward to the highest balcony, now realizing it was lit with candlelight.

"Isn't it beautiful, Sylvia?" came her voice, as sweet as ever.

He gazed up the waxing moon, crescent in the diamond sky, for a spilt second before turning back to the balcony. His eyes found Elizaveta, balancing a young child on her hips. A girl with silver hair and big child-like eyes. She was just as beautiful as Ellie. Then it dawned on him.

Her child. The child Elizaveta had birthed years ago. The child that he forced out of his mind to ease the heartache. The child who gazed up at the moon in absolute wonder. His child. His daughter.

Gilbert felt his eyes tearing. The girl was his own flesh and blood yet he did not know her and she did not know him.

"Why is the moon so shy momma?" the girl inquired, as the moon remained hidden in shadow.

"Well," she began. "Long ago the moon fell in love with the sun. And he loved the sun with all his heart and the sun loved him very much in return. They swore that they would be together always. But as fate would have it a comet came one day, knocking them both into different orbits, forcing her to leave her beloved moon. Thats why he hides himself, to hide his broken heart and loneliness. But as time passes he heals, as does the sun. But one day he will become strong and full again."

A twinkle in her eyes told him she was telling their story. A twinkle that resulted in a single tear.

Was this her way of saying goodbye?

Was their last dance, in fact meant to be their last dance?

Was it all her farewell? To end everything that they had on a blissful note with hardly any tears shed or words spoken?

So many, even his closest friends had told him to let her go. Reminding him again and again that she was a lost cause.

Was this her letting him go, all the while implying that he should do the same?

But what about the girl?

What about Sylvia?

He couldn't let his daughter go. Not again.

()()()()()()()()()()

The conference concluded several days later, with alliances formed and enemies made.

The new emperor of Austria would be a woman, therefore war was on the horizon between the old German rivals.

The ambassadors trickled out of the Edelstein estate one by one, departing for their homeland.

The Prussian ambassador was the last to leave. Gilbert had escorted the man to his carriage and sent the footmen to fetch the horses for him and his men.

He hadn't seen Elizaveta nor Sylvia since the first night of the conference. Yet his mind barely wandered from the thought of them.

He was a father and that little girl called Sylvia was his daughter. He couldn't ignore a feeling of fatherly love for the girl festering inside of him.

The carriage door closed. His horse whinnied as he took its reigns. He knew who stood behind him.

"Mr. Edelstein," he said, adjusting the reigns, avoiding the man's gaze.

"You've been awfully quiet these past few days Beilschmidt."

"Is that a problem?"

"No. I actually quite enjoy it. Yet it only gives me more of a reason to suspect you."

"Of what?"

"Of anything. In the years that I have known you I've learned that the possibilities are endless."

"Good." He turned to face him at last. "Then I guess now is a good time inquire about _my_ daughter."

Roderich was silent. His face set in stone.

"What about her?"

"She's my daughter. I'm her father. Figure it out!"

His anger slowly grew with every sentence. He had already lost his wife, he wasn't planning on loosing this battle.

"I'm afraid that you are no longer welcome here Beilschmidt."

Roderich turned to leave as Gilbert mounted his horse.

"Why would anyone want to be welcome in this guilded hell of yours!"

* * *

><p>AN: Soooo I'm back at school again. Which is both good and bad. Bad, because I have less time to write. Good, because i get my best ideas when I study. Anyway, this chapter was fun to write. I actually had this whole other draft written up for it, but once i started writing the opening paragraph everything just poured out of me. thus resulting in this chapter. Now that I think of it there might be a deleted scenes section after the epilogue. This chapter was a lot more fluid then the other one and it kinda made the whole story a little bi-polar. As readers i need to know what you think! Honestly, i'm not looking for compliments I'm looking for critique! Thanks! hope you enjoyed! see you next time!


	15. Chapter 15

**Sweet Silesia**

**Chapter 15**

The drums of war where steadfast. Never ending as they pounded throughout the night. Soldiers bustled about, their once sharp uniform in tatters from the dirty and gruesome work of battle. They all where preparing for the worst. In battle the best you could hope for was death, quick and clean. The worst was lifelong pain, groveling about the margins of society a cripple, no longer able to provide a service to your country.

A horn sounded in the distance. "Sir, the French reinforcements have arrived."

Gilbert nodded. Donning his hat as he left his tent to greet them.

The French soldiers slowly marched in rhythmically. His fellow germans eyed them suspiciously. These very same men, not long ago where their enemies and now by the whim of politicians they are now allies.

Politicians shouldn't change their minds as often as they do. It's the soldiers that feel the weight of the gavel in the end.

A man with honeyed hair and a crisp french blue coat caught his eye. He looked out of place in his freshly laundered clothes, sitting high on his white horse.

The horse slowly cantered through the ranks, approaching Gilbert on the muddied pathway.

"It's been awhile mon ami," the frenchman smiled.

"It certainly has," Gilbert tried to smile for his old friend.

"Was it just me or did we loose touch?" asked Francis, descending from his horse.

"Don't sugarcoat what happened Francis. We fell out of touch. We ended up on different sides of the playing field."

"I'm sorry," Francis sighed sincerely. "It was a lost cause and I thought it would be best if the cut was made cleanly and quickly. But I was wrong."

"We both were."

Gilbert turned on his heel gesturing for Francis to follow him into his tent, his temporary living quarters on the battlefield.

He pulled out a bottle of wine, that he kept stashed in his trunk and poured glasses for the two of them. Taking a sip he said, "So what brings a French merchant out to the german battlefields?"

"Business as usual. My company made quite a fortune in the manufacture of armaments for the troops. I thought I would ensure my government's loyalty by investigating the quality of the artillery while on the battlefield." Francis took a hearty sip out of his glass as he finished his sentence.

"You'll find that battle is not meant for an audience Francis," said Gilbert, replacing the cork in the glass bottle.

Francis took another sip before continuing. "Business is not the only thing that called me out here."

Gilbert sat down on the edge of his cot. "I'm guessing Antonio told you then. I'll have you know that your attempts at stopping me will be futile."

Francis couldn't ignore the sudden disdain in Gilbert's voice.

"I have no intention of stopping you, mon ami. I'm actually here to help you."

It was then Gilbert's face softened. "What do you mean?"

"I'm here to help you get your daughter back."

()()()()()()()()()()

A child's wail echoed throughout the household. Sylvia's fearful sobs could not be contained.

"Hush sweetheart," her mother chided, trying to calm her as she held her close.

"I don't wanna go! I don't wanna go!" she whimpered.

"We need to go sweetheart. We'll be safe there, no one will hurt you!"

"They'll catch us! They'll catch us!"

She tried to pick Sylvia up, hoping to carry her out to the waiting carriage, but she blatantly refused, forcing her self from her mother's grasp.

"I understand that your scared Sylvia. But we need to leave now!" It was unlike Elizaveta to become cross with her daughter, but as the cannon fire became closer and closer with every hour no mother couldn't help but be stern.

"We're safe here! We don't need to leave!" She wailed again.

Hurried footsteps approached the room before Roderich burst in. "We need to leave now Elizaveta!"

"Sylvia's refusing to leave! She's convinced that she's safe here."

Roderich sighed, his nerves on edge. "Have you tried telling her otherwise?"

"Thats all I have been doing Roderich!"she snapped, her nerves on edge as well.

He could tell by the lines under her eyes that she was tired, worried about the approaching storm. He himself knew that Beilschmidt was part of it, his spies had reported him along with a Frenchman and a Spaniard. They where coming for her.

"You take the carriage," he told Elizaveta, desperate to get her away from the estate.

Elizaveta stared at him in shock. "What?"

"You take the carriage. I'll follow behind you with Sylvia on horseback."

"What makes you think that will work?"

"Once the cannon fire gets louder she'll want to leave and horseback will be quicker then the carriage."

She glanced at her daughter who was shielding herself with a pillow now. "Will you watch out for her? Protect her?"

"Of course I will. She means a lot to you, therefore she means a lot to me."

"I never thought I would hear you say that Roderich."

He placed a hand on her shoulder, before finding herself being folded into his embrace.

"Now go! The carriage is waiting!"

She moved toward her daughter, who only moved further away in a fit of stubbornness. "I'll see you soon Sylvia. You listen to Roderich, okay?"

She could barely make out a nod through the pillow case. She bid farewell once more and then to Roderich before departing.

She breathed deeply once she was in the carriage, her heart pounding as she tried to ignore the fear that she would not be seeing her daughter soon.

()()()()()()()()()()

Night had fallen, yet the cannons still roared throughout the night. The invasion of northern Austria going smoothly for the allied forces. Gilbert gave his commands to his lieutenant for the night and then retired to his tent. The soldiers expected their commander to be done for the night when really for him it was just beginning.

Putting out his lantern he slipped out of the back through a loose piece of canvas. Francis and Antonio where waiting for him at the edge of the camp, having slipped away themselves, all three of their horses saddled and ready.

"Are you sure you want to do this amigo?" Antonio began. "Theres a good chance that Roderich will have your head."

"I've done my research Tony. I know what can happen and frankly I don't care. Its you that should be worried, your the one that has everything to loose, as do you Francis."

"We let you down before, Gilbert. Consider this our penance for the family you lost and where unable to save."

* * *

><p>AN: And there is chapter 15 at last! School is busy but not busy enough to keep me from my writing. I'm taking european history this semester and I'm hoping beyond belief that when term papers come around I can do a report/research project on the war of austrian succession! Which would make me the happiest person in the world!

I know this chapter is shorter then most, but the next one should be a bit longer then usual since it kinda when things come to a head. Which i like to call an emotional volcano.

Please review and lemme know what you think. More reviews=quicker updates! Thanks! Love you guys!


	16. Chapter 16

**Sweet Silesia**

**Chapter 16**

Night had fallen on the manor. The servants had long since fled and the house echoed with emptiness. The lights put out, the curtains drawn. The only sounds where that of distant cannon fire and the quivering fear of a child.

Sylvia clung to Roderich in the darkened bedroom, not because she felt an emotional connection to him but simply because he was the only familiar human being to cling too.

A single candle lit the room, the flame quivering at even the smallest sound. Almost as if it was inhaling and exhaling in sync with every breath made.

The last chance to leave had long since passed. Leaving the two of them to wait out the storm. Roderich's eye lids felt like weights, slowly sinking closed only to be jarred awake every so often by cannon fire. Sylvia refused to fall asleep, no matter how much Roderich tried to soothe her. Instead he settled with comforting her, smoothing the blond hair on her head.

The girl was stubborn, just like her father. He never felt any connection to her because every so often her actions would remind him of Beilschmidt. Yet at the same time she was so much like her mother, the woman he had fallen in love with when he was young, so long ago. He had hoped, he still hoped that one day he and Elizaveta would have their own children. But she was not as keen to share a bed with him as he had hoped. Nothing seemed to turn out as he had hoped. She was right, he never would understand.

A knock came at the door. Loud and obtrusive. Shaking both of them from their half slumber. Sylvia's whimpers suddenly became louder then they where before. "They've come for us! They've come for us!"

"Shh! Stay here! I'm sure its just a friend!"

He left the bedroom and slowly ventured downstairs. His heart pounded in his chest as if he was walking to his death.

He peered out the window by the front door, catching a glimpse of a soldier's uniform.

He had finally come.

Roderich wanted to run. The knocking came again, louder then before.

His fingers found the latch of the door, they where shaking as he began to fiddle with the lock. The knocking continued, ever so impatiently. A thousand possibilities ran through his mind, a thousand possibilities of what would happen once he opened the door. Would he shoot him right on the spot? Or would he kill him slowly with a knife?

The lock fell away. The giant door creaked open.

"Who is there?" He asked, his voice shaking.

"Reinforcements, good sir! Your wife said that you could use some assistance."

Roderich's fear turned to that of confusion. He eased the door open further to find a man of short to medium height, sandy blonde hair and green eyes. His voice deep the characteristics of a northern accent.

"My wife sent you?"

"I'm sorry where are my manners. My name is Sir Arthur Kirkland, Ambassador to the British Empire. Your wife, Mrs. Edelstein, requested protection for you and your daughter until it is safe to escort you to Vienna. "

Roderich breathed a sigh of relief, thanking the heavens for Elizaveta and her foresight.

()()()()()()()()()()

They left the horses in the woods, tying the reins off to trees. The three of them didn't want to arouse any alarm. Who knew what kind of soldiers Roderich had with him this time?

The three men crept through the brush surrounding the manor, peering over the wall into the darkened courtyard. It was well past midnight, yet none of them felt the least bit tired.

"Does Roderich really need that many horses?" Antonio asked, spying the sleeping half dozen horses in the courtyard.

"Those are the soldiers' horses, Tony." Gilbert replied, rolling his eyes.

"They don't look Austrian," Antonio defended.

"Oi! That English bastard! He can never keep his nose out of French business!" Francis snarled to himself.

"I think Francis knows who he is," Antonio half-whispered to Gilbert.

"An old rival," Francis began. "An englishmen that can never stay on his little island where he belongs!"

"Will we be able to take him and his men?" Gilbert asked, his military mind trying to size up the awaiting force.

"At this hour, a handful of sleepy englishman should be no problem. But leave Kirkland to me! I have a score to settle!"

"He's all yours Francis. Tony I need you to distract the soldiers as I search the house. Once I have her we need to leave. So whatever score you have to settle, settle it quickly. I don't want to have to leave anyone behind."

Gripping their swords and pistols at their sides, the three nodded too each other and proceeded on with their plans.

()()()()()()()()()()

Roderich's head might as well have been resting on his own shoulder, his neck twisted at an awkward an uncomfortable angle. He was exhausted but couldn't bring himself to fall asleep. Kirkland and his men had long since drifted off. He envied those soldiers and their ability to sleep. Yet despised them for falling asleep when they where the one supposed to be protecting him. He sighed, rubbing his tired eyes. At least he didn't have to pay them.

He stood up from his seat and walked around the room, in an attempt to reawaken his senses. He peered out the windows of the sitting room. He didn't know what he was looking for. The only thing he saw was the greenery of the garden, the dusty gravel of the road, and the darkness of the forest. The soldier's horses slept on the grass, like large brown and black statues. He thought he saw movement beyond the stone garden wall but blamed it on the exhaustion of his mind.

He left the sitting room and proceeded to the kitchen, figuring a cup of tea would set him straight until morning.

The embers of the fire still glowed brightly. He carelessly threw a log on and stirred the embers, conjuring the flames out from the ashes. He set the kettle over the fire as he had watched the cooks do many times when he was a child.

Hushed bustling noises came from behind him. He ignored it, assuming the soldiers where waking up. He turned away from the fire and stopped dead in his tracks, having found himself staring directly into the barrel of a gun.

"Beilschmidt," he gasped out several moments later. "How did I know that I would see you tonight?"

"Isn't it simple Roderich? A lovely little word called revenge," Gilbert snarled.

"I don't think your here for revenge. You weren't able to shoot me before and I don't think you can now either, not with Elizaveta's child upstairs. " Roderich's heart pounded, he hoped Beilschmidt couldn't sense his fear.

Gilbert lowered his gun, gripping the barrel in his hand. Roderich let out a sigh of relief, but Gilbert's eyes where as strong as ever. The red in his eyes teeming with blood and anger.

"Your right I didn't come here for revenge," He began. "But there is a thing called payback."

Before Roderich could raise his voice in question Gilbert swung his pistol, bringing the heavy wooden handle into collision with the side of Roderich's head. The blowed knocked him to the floor, falling onto the hearth of the fireplace unconscious.

Payback indeed.

()()()()()()()()()()

"ENGLISH BASTARD!"

"FROG EATER!"

Curses flew between the old rivals, the metal of their swords clashing violently as they fought.

They were outnumbered severely but as predicted the heaviest of sleepers where the easiest to subdue. Francis fought violently with Kirkland, while Antonio held off what remained of the soldiers. Suddenly Gilbert appeared and found himself in combat with a fresh soldier. Not eager to engage in a full out combat he overcame the man quickly, knocking the sword from his hand and delivering a blow to the side of his head. He wasn't eager to spill blood tonight, not with his daughter so close by.

He made his way for the stair case, running as fast as his uniform would allow. With his sword still in his hand he reached the top of the grand staircase, only to find Roderich somehow awake and gripping a sword in his hand and this time riddled with anger.

Without a single word spoken Roderich charged at him, swinging the sword as hard as he could. Gilbert blocked the blow, but nearly lost his balance on the staircase. Again Roderich struck and again Gilbert defended.

"You will not take her!"

"Thats what I said four years ago. Did you listen?"

With newly found rage Gilbert struck a counter blow, forcing Roderich back up the stairs. Again and again he struck, with Roderich meekly defending the blows Gilbert threw at him.

They reached the top of the stairs. Even with an even ground they still continued to fight.

"No! You never listened! You just took her! You only wanted her for yourself! You selfish bastard!"

"She was supposed to be mine!"

"SHE WAS MY WIFE!"

Gilbert swung, coming within mere centimeters of Roderich's neck. While Roderich thrusted his sword aiming to run Gilbert through. He too barely missed him. Again Gilbert swung, slicing a deep wound into Roderich's forearm.

Roderich dropped his sword, clutching the blood soaked sleeve of his arm. He seethed through his teeth in pain. He raised his face to Gilbert, who still held his sword at the ready, looking him dead in the face.

"If your going to kill me at least have the courtesy of doing it quickly," Roderich breathed through the pain.

Gilbert clenched and unclenched his jaw, considering the options posed before him. To Roderich's surprise he dropped his sword, the metal clattering against the marble as it echoed through the expansiveness of the house.

"Fight me!"

Roderich gazed at him, confused.

"Fight me like you should have done all those years ago when you took her from me!"

The rage in Gilbert's voice was unmatchable, as where the chances of Roderich beating him in a hand to hand combat. His head still pounded and the loss of blood wasn't helping either.

"We're unmatched."

"We where unmatched four years ago when your soldiers pulled me from my bed in the dead of night. Now…FIGHT ME!"

Gilbert raised his fists threateningly as Roderich took a shaky stance. Unexpectedly Roderich was the first to attack, hoping it would increase his chances of victory.

The men swung at each other, delivering several blows to one another. Once or twice Roderich had landed a blow on Gilbert, causing his brain to rattle within his skull. While Roderich felt that Gilbert was on the verge of breaking his jaw.

In the heat of their quarrel footsteps came rushing up the stairs, leather boots knocking against the marble. Antonio appeared in the corner of Gilbert's eye.

"Beilschmidt! We need to leave soon. Kirkland retreated. Francis says he'll be back with reinforcements soon."

"Then get Sylvia!" Gilbert snapped in-between the blows he received and delivered.

Antonio disappeared down the hallway, rushing past the rivals as quick as he could. Roderich motioned to follow him with the intention of stopping him. Gilbert grabbed him from behind, twisting his neck to the near point of snapping it before slamming him against the wall. His already bruised and battered skull spun to the point of nausea. He felt a blade at his throat, sharp, cold and deadly. Was this how it would end?

"Tell me Roderich! How does it feel? How does it feel to have something taking from you by force? How does it feel to loose something, someone so precious to you?"

Roderich's breath kept catching in his gut as Gilbert pressed the blade harder and harder against the flesh of his throat. Had Beilschmidt really loved her this much?

"I-it…It..hurts…" he said shakily through his breath, unable to get his mind off the knife at his throat.

"You bet it hurts," Gilbert snarled. "It does more then hurt. It's hell in its purest form. The only thing it's missing is the devil. But then again, you filled out that role perfectly didn't you."

The tip of the blade edged it way into his flesh, he could feel his life begin to flash before his eyes.

It wasn't until the screech of a child caught their ears that Gilbert finally lowered his blade.

()()()()()()()()

"Tony! What are you doing?"

"She wouldn't come with me so I picked her up and she bit me," Antonio nearly whined, rubbing the spot on his neck where Sylvia bit him.

Gilbert replaced the knife in his belt before he met his daughter's gaze. She stared at him intently with her mother's eyes.

"Papa?" she asked, afraid to approach him.

Suddenly, Gilbert felt all his rage fall away. His grip on Edelstein was released and the man fell to the floor, beaten and barely holding onto consciousness. Gilbert stood in front of him, hoping to block the sight from the child.

"Are you the man from Mama's necklace?"

Gilbert felt tears edge his eyes, suddenly ashamed of his violent actions.

He nodded. "Yes…yes I am."

She cautiously approached him, her gaze intent on the familiar man. Both of them could sense, could feel the blood that bound them together. Almost as if they where both looking in a mirror at one another.

He didn't scoop her up in his arms until she reached for him. He held her closely as he had wanted to do for so many years. Tears ebbed his eyes, it suddenly occurring to him that this was the very first time he held his daughter in his arms. Her arms where wrapped tightly around his neck, having found sanctuary for the first time since the war started. The first time she saw him, she knew she would be safe and that he would protect her with his life.

()()()()()()()()()()

When she first heard the news of the raid at the Edelstein estate she wasted no time in finding a horse and leaving the sanctuary that was Vienna in haste. But not before cursing the english ambassador for his cowardice.

She arrived at the manor to find the majority of it intact, with only the occasional broken chair and ripped curtain. Even the sight of blood was rare. She rushed throughout the house, calling for her daughter and Roderich. She was only met with silence.

"SYLVIA!" she screeched, her mind in a panic as she burst into her daughters room, finding it deserted. A few drawers where opened and some of their contents removed. Had Roderich taken the girl and fled? If he had she was yet to receive word of it, but Roderich was never good at keeping her in the loop.

She searched through the house, calling their names and listening for any signs of life. She was always met with silence.

She wrung her hands as she entered the kitchen and her heart dropped. Roderich, leaning over the kitchen table unconscious. A bloody bowl of water sitting nearby, accompanied by bloody rags, one of which was half wrapped around his arm.

"Roderich!" she screamed, laying him down on the kitchen floor to check for signs of life.

He was breathing but his breath was shallow. Bruises decorated parts of his face and a small dash of dried blood on his neck. Fetching a clean rag she bandaged the wound on his arm once it was clean. A cold compress was pressed to his forehead for the oncoming fever if an infection occurred and to revive him into some state of consciousness.

"Roderich?" she pleaded. "Roderich please answer me! Where is Sylvia?"

His eyes fluttered open and he couldn't be more thankful to see Elizaveta at his side caring for him.

"Where is she Roderich?" she persisted.

His mouth croaked open and through his breath only one word left his lips, "Beilschmidt."

()()()()()()()()()()

The only thing that got Ludwig to lower his book that day was the sound of a horse cantering up the path to the house. His brother had finally returned from war. He slowly walked outside to greet him as he always did. Even though he didn't show it, he was always thankful that his brother somehow managed to return home from the battle front.

He was taken by surprise when he stepped into the fresh air to find that his brother had not returned alone.

"Luddy!" Gilbert greeted. "I have returned with my leg still intact!"

Ludwig was taken aback, it had been awhile since he'd seen his brother this cheery. It was then he saw the little girl, sitting in front of his brother in the saddle. "Gilbert who is that?"

"Ludwig I would like you to meet your niece, Sylvia Beilschmidt," Gilbert said proudly as he got down from the saddle.

Ludwig's mouth dropped open. "How?"

Gilbert flung a small sack over his shoulder before lifting the girl from the saddle. "Sylvia I want you to meet your uncle, Ludwig."

"Hi! Ludwig!" She chirped, waving at him energetically, before rushing past him into the house, eager to see her new home.

"Gilbert!" Ludwig began sternly. "How did this happen?"

"How did this happen?! Well Ludwig when a man and a woman consent with one another…." He was cut off by Ludwig, "I know how _that_ works bruder. You told me once…in a little too much detail, danke. What I meant was..where did she come from? Is she really yours or did you pick up an orphan when you where in Austria?"

"Of course she's mine Ludwig. Can't you see? She has the vintage Beilschmidt hair, just like yours as well as Vati's."

"Whose her mother?"

"You remember Elizaveta don't you?"

"Of course I do. You never explained to me why she never came back."

"Well when she was taken from us she was pregnant. Sylvia is our daughter."

The brothers proceeded into the house, to see that Sylvia had already met Hilga and was animatedly chatting with the elderly woman.

"So you took Elizaveta's daughter from her?"

"She my daughter too Ludwig?" Gilbert snapped, Ludwig dampening his brief cheery mood.

"How where you able to take her? No mother gives up her daughter easily."

"She wasn't there. Roderich put up a tough fight though."

"Did you kill him Gilbert?"

"I couldn't. Sylvia was watching. I would be lying if I said that I wasn't considering it though."

"Do you still want her back?"

"You already know the answer to that question Ludwig."

"If you had killed him she would have been a widow. She would have come back to you."

"She would have, Ludwig. But my daughter would have thought me a murderer. Besides, I know now that if she loves me as much as she used too she would come back to me on her own."

Ludwig gazed at his brother and then at the little girl, now twirling around the foyer. She was all Gilbert had left of Elizaveta now. He fought Roderich, nearly to the point of killing him, and all for her, his own flesh and blood his sole reminder of what he once had.

"You still love her don't you?"

"I will always love her."

* * *

><p>AN: I'm back! Midterms where crazy and now that the dust has finally settled I have done nothing but write write and write some more. So I hope the length of this chapter makes up for it. I have settled with how it turned out. Action scenes are easier to imagine in your mind then actually write about them. In my mind its complete with a whole series of movie special effects, such as slow motion, explosions, blood, and highly choreographed fight scenes. None of which are easy to write out in prose. But nevertheless I hope you enjoyed, this probably being the completion of the second arc, out of the three...possibly four. It all depends on how the chapters pan out.

Please pretty please let me know what you think! More reviews equal quicker updates if time permits me! Love you all, look forward to hearing from you!


	17. Chapter 17

**Sweet Silesia **

**Chapter 17 **

_He put off traveling to the capital for a few days and stayed at home with his wife, recovering from a miscarriage. He held her when she cried in the night, whispering the soothing words she needed to hear. He tried his best to understand her pain. The babe had just barely begun to grow within her belly, yet it's entire life had been lived in her mind. She had felt its heartbeat, pictured its face. He knew now that this was the gift and curse of being a mother. No matter how good of a father he was, he would never feel pain the way she did. _

_Her state was somewhat improved by the time he returned from the capital about a week later, his business now finished. But too his dismay she was still not ready to give herself to him like he had hoped. He waited for her, patiently, to make the first move once they settled under the covers for the night. She didn't push him away as he wrapped an arm around her waist, yet she didn't welcome him. _

_They had been married long enough for him to know what a dry spell was. They both had their equal share of refusing one another. But he missed her, he needed her, especially at times like these. It was a period in his life where here was continuously hopping back and forth between the battlefield and home, between the worlds of insanity and the sane. One day he would be pulling the bloody body of a comrade out of a muddy ditch, the next his wife would be telling him about the year's garden. She was his solace, the perfect kind to prevent insanity and at times the only reminder that she, the most wonderful thing in his life, wasn't a dream. _

_Nearly a month had passed. His patience was wearing thin. He would be leaving again soon. He didn't want to leave on such a dry and stoic note. _

_She sat at her vanity one night braiding her hair in a simple thick braid. The look on her face was solemn, tired even. He eyed her from his place on the bed, her supple form clad in her thin nightdress. She had filled out nicely since he married her. _

_He laid his head back on his pillow in a huff, waiting for her to join him. _

_"I'll be leaving again in a few days," he said quietly. _

_"How long will you be gone?"_

_"A few weeks. No more then a month," he answered. _

_She got up from her stool and crawled onto the bed quietly, her face impassive._

_She nuzzled under the blankets, curled up on her side, on the very edge of falling asleep. Gilbert joined her under the blankets, slowly easing his way over to her side of the bed. His hand found her waist, pulling her body closer to his, slowly venturing up her stomach and cupping her breast. He nuzzled her neck, planting kisses in places where he knew she liked it. _

_A soft moan escaped her lips. "Gil…"_

_His kisses deepened at the crevice of her neck, sucking on her sweet skin. His hand ventured south, teasing her woman hood._

_To his surprise she pushed his hand away. "Why would you do that?"_

_"I thought you would liked it when I seduced you," he replied, confused. _

_"I'm not ready Gil."_

_"It's been a month, Ellie! Last I remember you where far more eager."_

_"Well you can't just expect me to be ready in a month. I don't know how long it will be until I'm ready again."_

_"Ready again for what?"_

_"Ready to have another baby."_

_He blinked, surprised at her words. "Ellie…I'm not asking that of you."_

_"You just said a few months ago that you wanted children!"_

_"Yes, I did. But…"_

_She cut him off. "You wanted children, I got pregnant and I miscarried. I failed you Gilbert."_

_She was crying now. _

_"Ellie…what on earth makes you think that?"_

_"You where so happy…and I…I…"_

_"Ellie…I'll be ready for children when your ready for children. And you didn't fail, you had an accident, and it wasn't even your fault. So don't think for one second that I blame you, don't even blame yourself. You deserve nothing but happiness, no substitutions."_

_She flung her arms around his neck a weight having been lifted off of her shoulders. Gilbert gingerly wrapped his arms around her, wallowing in her gentle warmth. _

_"There is nothing you can do that will stop me from loving you."_

_Her wet eyes where wiped dry on the cloth of his shoulder. One of her hands pushed the edge of his nightshirt down, suckling his muscled chest._

_"Ellie?"_

_She said nothing, she just gripped his shirt and pulled him on top of her, kissing him fully on the mouth. He couldn't help but smile into her kiss, thankful that she was happy again. _

_Their lips mingled on one another's for a time. His hands where at her breasts, before slowly making their way down to her hips inching up her nightgown. _

_She felt him grow harder and harder the longer she kissed him. She felt foolish, thinking that he didn't want her anymore. She missed him, terribly, and she welcomed him warmly. _

_She pulled his night shirt over his head leaving him naked and caught in the embrace of her arms and legs. The ties on her night gown loosened, letting the cloth fall gently below her shoulders, exposing her well-shaped breasts. _

_He suckled on them as if they where a fresh strawberry from the garden, as his hips gently rocked into hers. Her fingers played with his white hair, running her fingers through at first , then gripping and un-gripping as the pressure built. _

_Hickeys soon dotted across her chest and breasts, slowly making their way up her neck to her graceful jawline._

_Their movements were slow, extremely gentle, but as the heat built the pressure became excruciating. They bit each others lips, her nails digging deep into his shoulder blades. They had starved themselves of one another for too long and indulged themselves that night, unaware of what it would bring. _

()()()()()()()()()()

Beds where always bigger when they where empty and even colder when you slept alone. Every night as he crawled into bed Gilbert would stare at the place Elizaveta once occupied, still and cold from the years of her absence. He never once touched it, and always kept to his side of the bed.

Even after everything that had happened a part of him still believed that she would come back, and if she did it would be there waiting for her. The pillow fluffed, the sheets and quilt tucked in just as she like it. Every so often he would wake up in the middle of the night and reach over to her side of the bed searching for her, but his eyes would open and he would realize it was just a wish, a memory that had long since past.

It was hard for him to fall asleep after that.

The horrors of war haunted him as he slept. The nameless souls of the men he slaughtered watching him in his sleep, waiting for his death and to exact revenge on the feasting of his soul. Sometimes he would wake up in cold sweats, shivering, his breath heavy on his lips. Sometimes sleep would completely evade him altogether.

As Ludwig got older it became harder and harder to hide the alcohol from him, and sleep became harder and harder to come by.

Then the day came when he brought Sylvia home. Hilga was kind enough to scrounge together a decent room for the girl from the spare furnishings they had lying around. Ludwig's old childhood bed, a set a drawers, a dresser, trunk, and an old rocking horse that his grandfather had made for him when he was a boy.

The first night of her stay he crawled into bed, happy that his home had another family member in it. Sylvia, somewhat lonely and a little afraid in the new house crept into his room and curled up right where her mother used to sleep beside her father.

"What are you doing here?" he muttered curiously through sleepy eyes.

"I thought momma would be here," she whispered, snuggling into her pillow.

"Your mother hasn't been here for a very long time, sweetheart."

"Will she be coming back? Will she be visiting me?" she asked, a slight whimper in her voice.

"I hope so," he answered, smoothing her hair in a comforting gesture.

She snuggled up closer to him, gripping his night shirt in her small hand as if she was afraid that he would disappear while she slept.

"How did you know that I was your papa?" he asked after several long moments of silence.

It took awhile for her to answer him. He thought she had fallen asleep. He closed his eyes, knowing that we would have tomorrow to find the answer and hopefully several tomorrows after that.

"Mama told me," she said suddenly. "She would come into my room at night and tell me stories. She showed me pictures. Then she would sing me to sleep."

"What pictures?"

He heard the clink of a small chain as she pulled the locket out from underneath her nightgown, pulling it over her head. She offered it to him, which he took, immediately recognizing the smooth surface of the locket that he had given to Elizaveta years ago.

A small smile formed on his lips, realizing just how clever Elizaveta was. She knew he would take action to see his daughter and when he did she wanted little Sylvia to know who he was. She wanted their daughter to be able to call him father at their first meeting, whether or not she was there.

Wrapping an arm around his daughter's small form, he whispered, "Momma will be here soon," unbeknownst to him that she had fallen asleep.

For the first time in years a peaceful sleep engulfed him and remained well into dawn.

()()()()()()()()()()

Elizaveta was in a frenzy. Her daughter had been taken from her. Even though she knew that she was safe with Gilbert, the single thought that she might never see her daughter again sent her into a panic.

One morning as she arose, the first thing she did was slide on her riding boots and throw her riding jacket over her nightgown. Without a second thought she took off for the stables, hastily saddling the fastest horse she could find. She rode out at full gallop, sitting astride the horse her nightgown sliding up her legs. It was barely dawn and the morning chill shook shivers through her thin garments. Yet she didn't stop. She wouldn't stop until she was able to see her daughter's face again.

Roderich was barely awake, when he heard the neigh of the horse from his bedroom window. Stretching his still sore and wounded form, he made his way to the window. He had only caught the sight of Elizaveta sitting astride a horse riding at full gallop down the road,before he too made his way to the stables, ordering his own steed to be saddled immediately, so he could pursue his wife.

It wasn't long before he set out after her, his injuries sending painful throbs throughout his nervous system with every gallop. He bit his lip, sweat pouring down his brow as Elizaveta's own horse slowly came into view. Her steed had slowed down to a gentler pace in order to preserve the horse's energy, giving him the advantage of tailing her easily.

He slowed his horse down to a gentle trot as he rode up beside her. "Elizaveta?" he asked. "Surely theres no reason to be out riding this early in the morning?"

She clicked her tongue and trotted ahead of him. He swore he saw tears in her eyes, tears that she didn't want him to see. Against his better judgement he pursued her, speaking the words, "The road to Prussia is northwest."

"I know!" she snapped suddenly. "What do you take me for? Some frivolous woman?"

"I only said that because this road leads south, not north."

She glared at him before promptly dismounting her horse and leading it through the wood that lined the roadway, in a north-like direction.

Rolling his eyes he followed her, dismounting his horse and followed her path through the wood.

"Elizaveta?"

"Go away Roderich!" she snapped again. "I don't need you anymore! I never did!"

He let the reigns fall from his hands, moving to place a hand on her shoulder. "Please Elizaveta come back to the manor. Come back, lets get dressed and have breakfast on the terrace. There is no need for this troubling nonsense."

The second his palm touched her shoulder she whipped around and punched him squarely in the face. He felt the bones of his nose crack and a wave of dizziness and pain wash over him. He yelped in pain, grasping the bleeding nose in his hands.

"You spoiled jackass!" Elizaveta screeched. "Sylvia was kidnapped the other day and yet you just sit in your house acting like nothing happened! As if she was never even there! Does she even mean anything to you? Do I mean anything to you? So no, I won't be having breakfast on the terrace and I won't be going back, not without my daughter!"

By the time she finished speaking the dizziness had passed and he was able to stand upright. He fixed his glasses on the bridge of his bruised or broken nose, allowing his vision to come back into focus. The first thing he saw was Elizaveta walking away, determination in her stride accompanied by anger and sadness.

Tired of the harshly eventful morning he was having he took off after her, running as fast as he could through the wood.

Elizaveta, sensing Roderich was closing in on her, let go of the horse's reigns and raced ahead of him like a frightened doe.

She tore through the brush, making her way deeper and deeper into the expansive forest. She hoped she could outrun him, until he tired out at least. He had never struck her for the athletic type. Yet she forgot to estimate the amount of adrenaline coursing through his veins. After a certain point in time he gained on her, grasping the back of her riding cloak, and gruffly pulling her back towards him. The momentum of her figure causing them both to fall to the ground.

He felt her struggle as she tried to get back up, yet he held her tightly against him. Even as she cursed him, flailed and hit him some more, he held her until she was calm and curling up against him on the forest floor. It was then she started sobbing. He soothed her as if she was a small child, gently rocking her back and forth and running a hand through her hair.

Softly, he whispered the words in her ear, "You shouldn't go back to him. His country isn't safe anymore, so Sylvia won't be there for long. We'll get her back."

She let in a raspy sob, her breath still trying to return to its normal pace. "Why shouldn't I go back? I was happy with him. I loved him."

"Well he doesn't love you anymore."

Her breath hitched at those words.

"If he really did love you he would have come for you, but instead he only came for her. He doesn't want you anymore Elizaveta, he only wanted what he thought was his. Sylvia may be of his bloodline but not her rightful guardian. And believe me, if you had gone to his house to see her he wouldn't be pleased to see you, especially after what you did to him."

There where loopholes in his explanation, but she didn't catch them at first. The horse-ride back to the manor passed in a daze, along with the rest of the day as the servants removed her muddy clothes, bathed and dressed her, and fed her her meals. At night they laid her down to bed, tucking her into the silk and linen sheets, all the while muttering concerns and rumors about the lady of the manor. As Patrice snuffed out the candle she heard four words fall from Elizaveta's lips as she lay atop her bed, "But I did nothing."

()()()()()()()()()()

The concept of a dream is often a misinformed concept. A dream is a dream because it is a wish, a hope, a human's imagination at its finest, inspired by the very essence of life and love. What inspires it can also drive it mad with anger and regret, pushing it towards the very edge of sanity until the conscience looses itself in the darkest corners of the mind. The mind is a mystery, creating the dreams just as intricate and confusing as itself.

But what really is a dream? Nothing but the secret yearnings of the heart.

()()()()()()()()()()

_She could hear the fighting. The clash of the swords, metal on metal. Bang! Another gunshot fires. Furniture falls, cracks and breaks. The shouts of men, screaming profanity, cursing their enemies as they fought their foes. A shout to a comrade pierces the air, asking for a helping hand. At least some humanity remained in these war-torn men. The concept of brotherhood had not yet escaped them, maybe they would show her daughter the same mercy._

_She held her close, little Sylvia trembling in her arms as she clung to her mother for dear life._

_Why didn't they leave when they had the chance? But she was in no position to blame anyone, let alone her only child. _

_She heard Roderich scream, probably being struck down by a soldier. She had told him not to be a hero, yet he was so desperate to prove himself to her, to anyone, maybe even himself. She would never know which. _

_A series of angry shouts and murderous growls made their way through the latched bedroom doors. Sylvia only whimpered more. Tightening the blanket around her daughter she tucked her into the hidden corner of the bedroom armoire, leaving the door open a few centimeters knowing how the young girl whimpered in the dark._

_Her fingers found the handle of the frying pan she had hid earlier under the bed, the kitchen knives taken by the servants as last minute forms of defense, the skillet was hers and not just because it was the only thing left in the kitchen. _

_Gripping the cast iron skillet in her palm she hid behind the door. The pounding came closer and closer, louder and louder until finally the bedroom door burst open in an explosion of wood as the hinges broke loose, the nails tearing from the plaster walls. _

_The steps of a battle-worn leather boot slowly clicked and clattered across the marble floor and the glint of a sword peeked its edge around the broken door. Drawing in a shaking breath she swung the skillet with all her might, knocking the man flat across the face. _

_His sword fell to the floor, the loud clatter of metal conjuring a a loud squeal from Sylvia in the closet. He lay there moaning in pain, rubbing his head with his hands. His uniform dirtied and ruffled with a few splotches of blood here and there. She let out a heavy breath, now calm, realizing now who it was. _

_The exotic red eyes that she loved so much peered up at her, wanting to chuckle as he ran a hand through his messy white hair. _

_"Hey Ellie," he said through a heavy breath, tired from battle and a blow to the head._

_She just stared at him, not sure what to think._

_He stood up, leaving his sword on the ground, he didn't need it anymore. She felt his arms wrapping around her and the warmth that surrounded her felt too good to be real. _

_Slowly she brought herself to hug him back, terms of endearment falling from his lips along with inquiries about his daughter. _

_"You came for me."_

()()()()()()()()()()

Her eyes flickered open the next morning, her room was bright but there was no sunshine. For a second she thought she was back in Germany with her Gilbert laying beside her. How else could she explain being so warm and the intricate vividness of the dream she was awaking from.

Her heart sunk as she rose from her bed to find herself alone wrapped in warm blankets with a fire burning brightly within the room's hearth. She felt tears edge her eyes. He had always come for her before why hadn't he this time.

She wiped the tears from her as she stood from the bed. Thoughts of remounting a horse and taking off agin filled her mind. But the words, "He doesn't love you anymore," echoed in her mind and she found herself returning to the comfort of her bed. More tears fell from her eyes, soaking her pillow. She could only cry for so long and eventually her tears subsided, but the pain in her heart remained.

It was then she found the piece of parchment residing on her bedside table. She easily recognized Roderich's handwriting.

It read:

_My Dear Elizaveta,  
><em>_I apologize if my words and my persuasions make little sense. I've never been able to communicate or act well when it comes to such personal matters. I'm off to Vienna for the usual business affairs and to gather evidence for a custody case for Sylvia. I pray that you will wait and have faith in me as I have faith in you.  
><em>_Your husband,  
><em>_Roderich_

She spent the following week alone in a hazy meditation of despair. She slept and she ate as her servants saw fit with very little done in-between.

Roderich noticed it the evening he returned from Vienna. After a quick supper he retired to her chambers where she lay comfortably in her bed. Despite her healthy glow and groomed appearance, her eyes where dead.

He had done it. He had finally broken her.

He had thought this would be a crowning moment in their marriage, or so his circle of business comrades had said. He felt nothing. No pride at all. The dead look in her once bright eyes only brought shame.

He cautiously approached her, sitting on the side of her bed as he clasped her hand.

"Elizaveta?" he muttered quietly.

Her gaze slowly met his and she sat up in the sheets, her mouth slightly ajar but her face impassive.

He began to ask about how she was doing, but the thought fled from him as she planted her lips on his in a gentle kiss. She pulled away before he could respond and then she whispered the words, "Spend the night with me."

* * *

><p>AN:

Alas I have returned! I hope this chapter is satisfactory given the incredibly long wait. Truth be told I started writing it awhile back, the only problem was having the time to finish it. But hopefully that doesn't repeat itself. I've been giving myself deadlines lately for chapter updates, both fan fiction and non fan fiction. Will it work? Only time will tell. But if all goes well this story will be completed around or during the summer season.

So anyway please review and let me know what you think. Questions, comments, and concerns are always welcome. Thank You, love you and enjoy!


	18. Chapter 18

**Sweet Silesia**

**Chapter 18**

_ The carriage jostled down the worn dirt path. It was late afternoon, so the sun was shining at just the right angle through the windows to make sure his eyes squinted uncomfortably. Annoyed at the light Gilbert grudgingly shut the curtains, knowing that the summer air would become stiff and stale within the hour if not sooner. He tried to relax into the cushioned seat, for the hundredth time since they boarded the mode of transport. He envied his wife who slept peacefully beside him, her head lying on his shoulder. _

_ He hated carriage rides. He found them too confining and cramped. Partly because it reminded him of the hearses and death carts that frequented the battlefields. He preferred the freedom and the open air of riding on horseback. _

_ But nevertheless, the carriage ride was a gift from Tony, a wedding present of all things. He was more then ready to politely decline when the invitation arrived. Making the claim that he and his new wife would find their own way to the estate in France. But his dear Ellie, who had never had the privilege of riding in a nobleman's carriage before, insisted, claiming it would be rude to deny a friend such a nice gift. _

_ Batting her green eyes at him he sighed and said, "Whatever will make you happiest."_

_ Within the first half hour of the trip she took notice of his discomfort, kissed him and in her most seductive voice said, " If you get through this I'll make it up to you when we get there."_

_ No words could describe how much he loved her right then and there, and how thankful he was that of all men in the world she had chosen to love him. _

_ The carriage pulled up to the foregrounds of the Frenchman's estate as the sunset began to color the horizon. He had reopened the curtains, inhaling the fresh air. He was glad that their destination was neigh. His limbs were numb from sitting so long, especially the arm that remained around the waist of his sleeping wife. He gently shook her awake. "Ellie…Ellie we are nearly there."_

_ Her sleepy eyes flickered open. "Already?" she said with a yawn. He couldn't help but roll his eyes, having deemed the entire voyage the longest hours of his life. _

_ The carriage came to a halt right outside the front door. A footman came rushing out, followed close behind by a cheerful Francis and Antonio._

_ "There are the happy newlyweds!" Francis shouted gleefully._

_ Gilbert didn't even wait for the footman to open the carriage. He hopped out himself, with just the right timing that would snub the footman, which in his wounded pride caused him to step aside. _

_ "Was my personal carriage not comfortable enough for you?" Antonio inquired as he and Francis embraced their old friend._

_ Gilbert let out a light chuckle, turning to help his wife disembark from the carriage. "Ellie actually slept most of the way here."_

_ The pair's eyes immediately fell on the new Mrs. Beilschmidt, immediately realizing why Gilbert had pursued her out of all the past females he had encountered in his young life. _

_ She smiled shyly wrapping her shawl tightly around her shoulders. _

_ "Is this the goddess Elizaveta whom we have heard so much about?" Francis questioned approaching her and kissing her hand in greeting. _

_ "I wouldn't describe myself as a goddess when in fact I am quite human."_

_ "It is not you who describes yourself, it is rather a matter of how your husband describes you," Francis retorted with a smile. _

_ Elizaveta sent her husband a glare. "Exactly how do you talk about me when I'm not around?"_

_ "As beautiful as the goddess Aphrodite," Antonio began. "But as wild and free as Artemis. Just as intelligent and as wise as Athena. Need I say more?"_

_ Elizaveta shook her head. "I'm afraid that my husband has the tendency to exaggerate such things. My only hope is that you will not be a disappointed as I fear you will be once the wine begins to flow this evening," conjuring a chuckle from the men. _

_ "Speaking of dinner," Francis inquired, beginning to lead the group into his grand estate. "A future mutual friend will be joining us this evening. He's a young law student recently from the colonies across the Atlantic. He is a bit shy but makes up for it in intelligence and wit." He turned to Elizaveta her arm enlaced tightly with Gilbert's and whispered, "Be gentle with him my dear. You've already smitten one of my allies. It will just not do if you have made off with two."_

_ "You need not worry Monsieur Bonnefoy. One smitten man is more then enough for me," She smiled, letting her head rest gently on her husband's shoulder._

* * *

><p><em> "You and your friends are very close. How long have you known each other?" she asked at one point folding his vest and jacket over the back of a chair in the guest room. <em>

_ "If I gave you the number of years, you would think me an old man." She smiled, letting out a small giggle. She stood mere inches from him, her fingers playing with the strings of his clothes. _

_ "Well you are older then me."_

_ "Not by a lot. You don't even need a whole hand to count the years." He found his hand in her hair, long, loose and soft. "Besides, as we grow old together the difference will become less and less great."_

_ "You talk as if growing old is a good thing. How will I know that you will still look at me the very same way you do now in twenty - no - thirty years?"_

_ "Growing old, its a blessing for a soldier especially if he is not cursed to spend it alone. You have no idea how lucky I consider myself to find someone like you and that loving free spirit of yours. As long as you never let that go away…then this will never change."_

_ "Even if I have white hair and warts to match?"_

_ "Your skin can turn blue for all I care," he remarked with a laugh._

_ She snickered a little herself before whispering, "That must be a sight to make love to."_

_ He almost wanted to snicker himself, when he realized just exactly where his wife's hands where. Her nimble fingers had unbuttoned his trousers, massaging his own anatomy beneath. _

_ Their eyes met and he was a little surprised by the clever smirk on her face. "Ellie?"_

_ "You endured the carriage ride for me. I did promise you that I would make it up to you."_

_ He paused for a few moments. "But…dinner?"_

_ "Dinner can wait. I'd rather have desert."_

_ The next few minutes passed by quickly. He found his clothes removed, sitting on the edge of the bed as his now nude wife nestled herself onto his lap, wrapping her legs around his lower back. He had never seen her take initiative like this and although surprising at first, he loved it._

_ He kissed her breasts, teasing her nipples with his tongue as she grinded her hips against his pelvis. She suckled his neck; bite his ear, everything she knew that excited him, even fisting her hands in his short white hair. _

_ "We should ride in carriages more often if this is how you thank me for it," he muttered through gasps, his control slowly slipping away. Elizaveta couldn't help but chuckle, kissing him firmly on the lips, letting him run his hands through her hair and all over her body. She gripped him in her fist, massaging him before guiding him into herself. She nestled on top of him with a moan. _

_ Unable to control himself any longer he flipped her over onto her back, her legs nearly dangling off the bed, as he pounded into her mercilessly. With his feet on the floor he had more leverage then necessary. Every movement was strong and forceful, shaking the bed, causing both the aged piece of furniture and Elizaveta to creek and moan with every move or forceful thrust._

_ She had been already lying like a puddle beneath him when he collapsed on top of her, exhausted and spent. Their noses tickled one another's and the warmth of their shallow breaths lingered and mingled. Their lips suckling the others tenderly. _

_ "And you refuse to admit that you're a goddess?" Gilbert chuckled._

_ "And why's that?"_

_ "Because only a goddess can bring a man to his knees like that, let alone a crumbled pile of exhaustion."_

_ She smiled and continued kissing him. Their hunger now satisfied, when a knock sounded at the guest room door. "If you two lovebirds are finished in there we would like to have dinner now. Some of us are more hungry then others," came the voice of Francis from beyond the door. _

_ The two jumped where they lay, their limbs still tangled. "We'll be out in a few minutes Francis," Gilbert responded, standing from the bed and began scavenging his clothes off the floor and putting them on. Elizaveta did the same, her face flushed with embarrassment. Slipping her shift over her head she asked, "Do you think he was listening the whole time?"_

_ Gilbert's head perked up from the buttons on his shirt, his face pensive with twinge of horror. "I hope not."_

_ Elizaveta tried not to think anything of it as she continued to dress. Sliding her good stockings onto her legs and retrieving her stays off the floor and fastening them around her chest, before turning to Gilbert for assistance. Gilbert fiddled with the laces trying to untangle them, when he said, "But then again…knowing Francis for so long…"_

_ Elizaveta groaned, not at all pleased with the unveiling situation. "Well this is going to be a lovely stay, with your friends eavesdropping on us like that."_

_ "You didn't let me finish Ellie," he said, gently tightening the laces of her stays. "Knowing Francis for so long he was probably chasing away a nosy servant. He has a lot of those here," he finished, securing the stays in place with a simple knot. _

_ "Nosy servants? That's quite an odd set of staff to have."_

_ "Makes perfect sense for the kind of business he runs."_

* * *

><p><em>The dinner was luxurious and lasted long throughout the evening and late into the night and filled with an equal amount of laughter and thought provoking conversation. In the beginning just as the main company was beginning to take their seats in the elegant dining hall, a young man with honey blonde hair entered, his clothes new and stiff yet his shoulders hunched shyly and awkwardly. He curiously gazed at the company from behind a pair of glasses with bright blue eyes, sparkling with kindness and hopeful of friendship. Francis in that moment had turned around to refill his wine glass and was unable to see him enter, leaving the rest of the company to either stare at him with questioning looks or for some, not even notice him at all. <em>

_ The majority of the conversation continued, even as the young man who barely reached adulthood was able to croak out a meager hello or discernable greeting. _

_ "H-H-Hello...I'm…I'm…"_

_ "Mr. Williams!" Francis nearly shouted, turning around with his freshly filled glass of wine. "I didn't even notice that you where not here. I'm terribly sorry that the evening almost continued without you. But no matter." He took a hearty gulp of his wine, patting the young man on the shoulder as a sign of friendship, before continuing. "Do not let that fact spoil the evening! Friends have gathered, some of who have brought their wives and some have brought their companions. Please consider this evening as not only your introduction but also an invitation to our wonderful little societal circle."_

_ He then turned to a modestly dressed but beautiful woman, "Madame would you please fetch Mr. Williams a fine glass of wine?"_

_ She nodded and went about the task amidst the chatter, while Francis lead the young man over to where the Beilschmidts and Antonio where chatting. "My good friends! I would like to introduce you to my protégé Monsieur Matthew Williams." _

_ The young man nodded, muttering a small but polite hello. _

_ Gilbert approached him and shook his hand. "So your Bonnefoy's new law student, aren't you?"_

_ He nodded in response, "Yes."_

_ "You're a rather quiet talker for a law student," Gilbert remarked._

_ "A skill which he shows promise of improving," Bonnefoy interjected." But for now you must forgive him. He is in a new land with new people, and a much more sophisticated culture. One can only imagine that it can be overbearing at times."_

_ "Oh that's right you're from America!" Antonio remarked. "Was that your place of birth or did you immigrate at a young age?"_

_ "Um…" he began, trying to muster the right words with a flushed face. "My parents where colonials but my birthplace was actually Canada."_

_ Elizaveta sipped her wine and asked, "Canada? I've never heard of such a place before. Where is it?"_

_ "Oh it's just north of America and much larger province as a matter of fact."_

_ "How come we have never heard of it before?"_

_ "That is not a surprise to me. My homeland is not as densely populated as our brother province is and if it wasn't few a distinct characteristics we might as well be the same country. Or so they say in America, Canadians think differently."_

_ "What distinct characteristics might those be?" Elizaveta asked._

_ Matthew rocked back and forth on his heels, gazing down at his toes for a split second before answering. "Well for starters the Americans' owe their allegiance to the English crown and Canadians the French Monarchy. I can tell you from first hand experience that if it wasn't for French generosity and benefactors such as Monsieur Bonnefoy…"_

_ "He would currently be running with the natives in the vast wilderness, wearing nothing but furs and a loin cloth made of animal skins," Francis interjected, having finished another glass of wine._

_ Matthew looked as if he wanted to say something, but the conversation continued without him. He stood there quietly, occasionally sipping his wine and listening, listening very intently to the group's conversation._

_ "Concerning any future law concerns, whatever they may be," Francis announced during dinner. "You may take them up with Monsieur Williams, late of the Americas. I swear on the crown of France and my own name and blood, that he will win you your case."_

* * *

><p>"Papa?" Sylvia chirped, in an almost singsong voice as she skipped across the yard. "Papa!" she called again, having heard no answer as she approached the shed.<p>

"I'm in here Sylvie!" she heard her father answer from within the work shed, followed by the sound of a saw, working its way through a piece of wood.

She found the shed door open, allowing the cool spring air to circulate throughout the small space. Her father was bent over his workbench, cutting down a piece of wood to a certain size. His vest was off and shirtsleeves rolled up, sweat having gathered on his collarbone and brow.

"What are you making this time, papa?"

"A bed frame," he answered, setting down the saw and wiping his brow with the back of his forearm.

"What for?"

"For when you get older and need a bed of your own." He then turned to his daughter, who was waiting for him patiently by the doorframe.

"Is it my big girl bed?"

Gilbert chuckled and smiled, scooping his little girl up in his arms. "If you want it to be." He readjusted so she sat on his shoulders, her fingers mindlessly playing with his hair. "Why are you here anyway?" he asked, beginning to walk across the yard back to the house.

"Miss Hilga sent me."

"Oh did she. Did she say why?"

"She said a Vanky is here to see you."

"A Vanky?"

"That's what she called him."

Gilbert paused, trying to interpret his daughter's mispronunciation, and then it clicked. "Oh! You mean a Yankee."

"That's what I said!" she defended in her childlike way.

They entered through the back kitchen door of the house, where Gilbert set Sylvia down on the counter, washing his hands and face in the water basin. Sylvia watched him, before doing the same. Gilbert chuckled to himself as she got the front of her simple cotton dress wet. He grabbed a clean rag sitting nearby and began to wipe her face and clothes dry.

"Have you seen your Uncle Luddy today?"

"He was in the book room reading."

"Would you go in there with him for awhile? He might read a story for you."

She nodded eagerly before her father set her down on the ground and she skittered off toward the office. Gilbert sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He wasn't in the mood for visitors, especially now that he didn't want to risk the whole scenario with Ellie repeating with his daughter. As a commander he was now able to request more border patrols and scouts in the province. Currently twice the amount of national security engulfed the Germanic nation then it did five years ago. But that didn't stop him from worrying. Fickle politicians could change their minds about alliances and enemies any day now. It was that little grain of truth that kept him on his toes, checking in his daughter's bedroom in the middle of the night on a regular basis and eyes peeled to the woods for any unusual or unfriendly visitors. Ludwig called him paranoid. But he was a father now and he had every reason to be. Ludwig would never understand that.

He found his vest slung over the side of a kitchen chair. He promptly donned it, straightening out his work shirt as best he could. He walked through the kitchen and dining room until he reached the modest foyer, recently refurnished with wood carved by his own hand and hunting trophies won by him and his brother. It was no longer the house of their grandparents and ancestors. It was their home now.

The 'Vanky' was waiting patiently by the door, a small cup of coffee recently brought to him by Hilga sat on a saucer in his hand. He stared down at the dark substance in a haze, making him jump when Gilbert made his presence known.

"Mr. Williams if I remember correctly?"

A few drops of the lukewarm coffee spilled over onto the saucer. "Y-Yes," he sputtered out embarrassingly, before straightening his posture into a more dignified manner. "Hello Mr. Beilschmidt. Monsieur Bonnefoy has sent me to assist you for the upcoming trial."

"What upcoming trial?"

"Oh…you haven't heard." He paused, alternating the weight between his two feet. "Then shall we continue this conversation in a more comfortable setting?"

Gilbert nodded and led him into the dining room, Matthew followed close behind with a heavy briefcase that appeared in his right hand.

"So have you been to America recently?" Gilbert asked, fetching the warm urn of coffee from the kitchen.

"America?" questioned Matthew, setting his briefcase on the table and pulling out numerous papers and documents, spreading them across the table in a moderately organized fashion.

"Yes, your homeland," Gilbert replied, pouring himself a cup of coffee and topping off Matthews own cup.

"Um…I'm from Canada…"

"So what's the occasion for Francis sending me a lawyer?" Gilbert asked, as if he never heard Matthew's response.

Readjusting the glasses balancing on his nose, he pulled out a single piece of parchment from the fray beneath him and passed it across the table to Gilbert. "I'm afraid your old enemy has not given up as easily as you thought he would. Francis told me what happened the last time he came for your family. Instead of using brute force he is coming at you through the court system, across country borders. Creating quite the high profile case between the two nations."

"So the great Edelstein is too much of a coward to come after me himself. Idiot!" he muttered to himself as he sipped his coffee.

"But nevertheless he has put forth quite the custody case against you."

"Custody case?"

"The custody case for your daughter. Roderich wants her back, or Elizaveta does at least." He paused to look at a piece of parchment, adjusting the glasses on his nose. "Apparently he is prepared to offer you half the of the total of Mrs. Edelstein's original dowry if you return the child to his manor before the hearing takes place."

Gilbert's hand clenched tightly around his coffee cup his knuckles white as he tried to keep himself from hurling the porcelain across the room. "You mean to tell me that that arrogant asshole thinks I'll hand over my own child for some petty cash!" he snarled, on the verge of screaming.

Matthew stammered, having been set back on his heels by the German's unexpected and sudden wrath. "W-well the amount stated is definitely not petty," The young man at a loss for any other words.

Gilbert only grunted and stood from the table, leaving his coffee cup where he left it. Matthew returned to his documents, searching for some other information and loopholes that they needed to cover in this first meeting. He heard Gilbert open a cupboard on the far side of the room and return with a fairly large glass bottle.

"Do you like Jagermeister in your coffee?" he asked suddenly, pouring the contents of the liquor bottle into his coffee cup.

Matthew just stared. "Its…Its barely even the afternoon."

"Well I say the occasion calls for it," he said, talking a hearty sip. "Yep, it definitely suits the occasion. So what does this Austrian think he has against me?"

"Well for one her baptismal certificate, several doctor's notes from when Mrs. Edelstein gave birth as well as her routine checkups during pregnancy. He pretty much has everything necessary to claim Sylvia as his own."

Gilbert poured more of the liquor into his coffee. The conversation forcing his mind to return to the painful memories of years passed. "Isn't it a rather big hint that she had only been married to him for a few months when she gave birth? Or the fact that for years before that she lived abroad with another man?"

Matthew sighed. "It's a classic aristocratic scandal Mr. Beilschmidt. No one knows whose child is whose and yet every one of them wants a heir to call their own."

"Well then why doesn't he just get one of his own little bastards? Because he's not getting mine!"

"No matter your opinion Mr. Beilschmidt we must be able to present solid evidence of your daughter's legitimacy and that fact that she is your own kin."

Gilbert slouched in his chair, taking another generous sip of his spiked coffee. He emptied the porcelain when a little voice sounded just outside the room. "Papa! Papa!"

Sylvia came rushing in, her blonde hair streaking behind her as she jumped into her father's lap on the chair. She looked frightened, clasping to the front of his vests with her small hands.

"What's wrong Sylvie?"

"Uncle Vuddy's mean. He promised he'd read me a nice story but he read me a scary one instead."

"I didn't know she'd be frightened by Milton," Ludwig defended, his still boyish figure appearing at the door that Sylvia had dashed through moments earlier.

"Ludwig, I think that at her age anything with the word Satan in it would frighten her," Gilbert responded, holding his daughter in a loose yet comforting embrace.

"It didn't scare me," Ludwig muttered under his breath, reopening the book that he held in his hand, continuing to read before taking a seat at the table.

Matthew observed the small family scene before him quietly. His eyes fell on the young girl, her resemblance to both her father and uncle was uncanny. The same fair hair color, the same set of strong German cheekbones, and the same distinctive pair of hawk-like eyes. Her presence at the hearing would settle the whole dispute, but he doubted Beilschmidt would want his daughter being paraded around the courthouse to be prodded at and judged.

"Is there anything she has that can display a connection between her mother and you?" he asked inquisitively but not overly hopeful for a response.

Gilbert perked up, rubbing his daughter's back he looked at her and asked, "Do you still have that locket your mother gave you?"

* * *

><p>His eyes slopped downward, heavy with sleep. He let out another yawn before he finally decided to set his quill down and retire to his bedchamber for a decent slumber. He left his office and made his way to his bedroom. Passing the doors of the rooms that belonged to his wife he retraced his steps and decided instead to spend the night with her.<p>

He found her sound sleep in her bed, lying comfortably amongst the white pillows and blankets, the linen of her nightgown matching the fabric nicely. She had filled out nicely, especially these past few months when she started eating regularly, leaving nice soft curves that left him with a sensation of longing.

He changed into his nightgown and crawled into bed beside her, wrapping his arm about her waist pulling her close to him. To his surprise she squirmed, releasing an almost sad little mew, as she buried her face more in her pillow. He had thought that she was sound asleep, but he was wrong. It was then that the noticed the moisture that still clung to her eyelashes and stained her cheeks, the redness that lined her eyelids that where once swollen with tears.

"What's wrong darling?"

She hesitated, her voice stifling from underneath the pillow. It soon became clear that she did not want to tell him the reason for her tears. God knows there where many.

"Elizaveta, please tell me," he persisted.

Her secret flew from her lips in mumbled words. He had heard nothing.

"Elizaveta I can't here you."

It was then she looked at him, her eyes both a haunting red and green as she spoke the two words, the two words he thought he would never hear from her.

"I'm pregnant."

* * *

><p>AN: I know what your thinking "finally it has been updated!" well I think the same way. it took awhile for me to write it, i had to build a lot of bridges in this chapter and I can't say it wasn't easy, especially with my job asking for extra shifts and finals coming up. But I enjoyed it nonetheless and I wanted to get this up and ready before I dive into the fray that is my life.

I've changed the ending again, for like the 3rd time since I've started writing this story. But you can take that as proof that I am still writing this story and working on it whenever I get the chance. Trying to make it better with a satisfying yet realistic ending. I've nearly got it nailed down, just need to get all the details in place. Especially now when it looks like I won't be able to post the next chapter until either May or June, depending on how hectic things get.

Also...What do you think of our beloved Matthew Williams? I had fun with his character and shy personality. I made him a lawyer as my own way of saying that just because people are shy and quiet doesn't mean that they lack strength and intelligence, which more outgoing people are able to boast about. Still waters run deep, I believe the saying goes. But nevertheless I want to remain true to his character and I will be relying on you all for a constructive critique of it.

In other news, if your familiar with the movie_ King Arthur_, the one with Clive Owen and Keira Knightly as Arthur and Gwenievere, if you ever have the chance to listen to the soundtrack I recommend it. I was listening to the soundtrack while writing the majority of this chapter and not only did I find the music beautiful but it seemed to fit the story perfectly. Especially the song Tell Me Now. So here I am officially initiating it as the main theme for this story. But because I love my readers and reviewers, all suggestions and personal opinions are more then welcome.

Thank you all so much for your patience! I've hoped you've enjoyed this chapter! Please read and review!

Until Next Time!


	19. Chapter 19

**Sweet Silesia**

**Chapter 19**

It was many months and many meetings with Mr. Williams before the custody hearing could take place.

Sylvia had grown at least two inches in those months and was constantly in need of new clothes and not just because she had grown so quickly. She spent her days running about the grounds and the surrounding forests playing. While in the process ripping the fabric of her dress and getting herself covered in mud, yet always came home with a skip and a smile in her step.

Helga, out of kindness and a sort of adoration for the girl, constantly mended and washed her clothes and on occasion made a new dress for her, which often became designated for playing. When Gilbert found Helga in the midst of mending another tear in one of his daughter's dresses, he kindly made the suggestion that when she plays she wears a pair of Ludwig's old breeches which he had long since outgrown.

Helga shot him a look so sinister, he found himself set back on his heels.

"Young ladies do not wear breeches!" she scolded in a tone that was so unlike her.

"I just thought it would be easier…."

"If you want to raise this girl properly, letting her wear breeches while she plays will only discourage lady-like behavior," Helga spoke sternly, interrupting him.

"But she's not a lady Helga, she's only a girl. A child nonetheless."

"So was Miss Elizaveta until you brought her here and made her a woman," Helga responded under her breath.

Gilbert's eyes fell downcast, he then turned around as if he meant to walk away, but he paused and said, "Just let her play Helga, and if the breeches dirty or tear then nothing is lost."

Helga sighed, realizing the extremity of her words, and replied, "Yes sir." But he had already walked away.

()()()()()()()()()()

The day of the hearing arrived, along with its mandatory attendants, which weren't that many considering that there weren't many individuals involved. Gilbert donned his second best coat and vest, before taking a sip of coffee and making his way to the courthouse. Matthew waited for him outside the grand building, fiddling nervously through papers as he always did when he was nervous, being that he was always nervous.

Gilbert let out a sigh as he observed Matthew's nervous state and said, "Lets get this over with." He made his way up the courthouse steps, with Matthew following close behind.

"Do you have the locket?" Matthew asked.

"Yep!" Gilbert affirmed, clutching the polished metal in his pocket. Matthew only nodded as they approached the courtroom door.

"Then we are all set."

The courtroom doors opened and they entered the chambers, vast and hollow, like Gilbert expected of a courtroom. Edelstein and his party had already arrived and currently occupied their bench, while he and Matthew took their place at the bench opposite them.

He could feel Edelstein's cold violet gaze on him, but he avoided it, knowing the moment the gaze was met he would want to strangle the life out of the man.

Matthew set to work, organizing the papers he had brought with him across the desk before them. While a member of Edelstein's party did the same. A notary entered, a young woman with her hair in long twin braids tied at the ends with purple ribbon.

Gilbert nudged Matthew with his elbow. "Whose she?" he asked.

"That's the notary, or the Judge's notary actually. I had them bring in a judge from Switzerland."

"Why would you do that?" Gilbert asked, confused, watching the young woman set up her small desk with blank papers and pencils.

"Well Edelstein's lawyer was planning on putting forth the case with an Austrian judge. Knowing that the judge was likely to rule in favor of an Austrian, I proposed we bring in a Swiss judge. No bias or favoritism will be present in this courtroom today, I can assure you."

"You couldn't pull a judge from Germany?"

"Well if I did and the judge would rule in your favor, then his lawyers would call for an appeal and we would have to start this process all over again. Its quicker to do it this way."

Gilbert sighed and leaned back in his chair, not questioning Matthew's foresight in the matter at hand.

Many silent moments of preparation passed before the judge entered, cold and stoic as Gilbert expected someone from Switzerland to be.

"All rise for the honorable Judge Zwingli!" a deep voice echoed across the room, and all present rose in time as the Judge took his seat, his gavel at the ready.

Everyone reseated themselves. The judge, a young man with blond hair, gave the order for the lawyers to present their cases.

Edelstein's lawyer was the first to stand, his air haughtier then Roderich's was, much to Gilbert's surprise. With a smoking pipe in hand, and a burly mustache to match he sauntered back and forth across the courtroom floor, giving his opening statement.

"The case I've come to present to the honorable judge Zwingli, is a case that pleads for the honor, virtue, and morality of family. My client, Mr. Edelstein, has put forth a plea for the justice system to return his daughter to him. His only daughter, which Mr. Beilschmidt stands guilty of kidnapping and holding ransom against her will. So we stand here today, pleading our country's justice system to re-unite the Edelstein family together once again."

The lawyer finished and took his seat. Gilbert's eyes fell on the judge, who was now examining his own set of documents. He swore he saw the man roll his eyes at Edelstein's opening statement.

"Mr. Beilschmidt!" The judge thundered. "How do you plead?"

Matthew nudged Gilbert with his elbow. Gilbert stood and said, "Not guilty."

Zwingli nodded and said, "Very well. Mr. Williams, your opening statement please."

Matthew stood and buttoned his jacket, making his way to the courtroom floor. Rolling his shoulders back he opened his mouth, as he spoke Gilbert barely recognized the man.

"Anyone who has been raised by a pair of loving parents, even by single parent, it goes without question that there is nothing that a parent wouldn't do for their child. My client, Mr. Beilschmidt, did exactly that. He had felt that his daughter, his only child by his late wife, was in the hands of the wrong man. That she was unsafe in Austria. So he took his risks, calculated risks nonetheless, knowing that he might go to prison and that he might be standing here in this courtroom, pleading for his daughter's safety and livelihood. I've spoken with him in our numerous meetings; he regrets nothing and would do it again if he had too. His presence here today, demonstrates that he is still fighting for her and will continue to do so even after he leaves this courtroom."

He finished and took his seat beside Gilbert again.

The judge tapped his gavel on the platform, signaling it was time for the separate lawyers to present their cases further with evidence. Edelstein's lawyer presented the evidence just as Matthew assumed he would, a presentation of doctor's notes and their marriage certificate.

Zwingli asked to view the marriage certificate closely and it was passed to the notary and up to him on his high desk. He eyed it suspiciously then asked, "And what is the child's birth date."

"October the eighteenth, your honor."

"Six months after this certificate was filled out?"

"Yes, your honor. This would not be the first case of wedlock this courtroom has seen," the lawyer lied smoothly.

"Mr. Williams," the judge called, and Matthew took to his feet once more. "Explain to this courtroom why Mr. Beilschmidt is making claims to a child birthed by a woman who was not his wife?"

Matthew cleared his throat and nervously began. "Well you see your honor, the woman currently known as Mrs. Edelstein was once known as Mrs. Beilschmidt. I believe that is the error in my opponents evidence."

"I've been shown no divorce papers yet. Do you have any to present to me?"

"No your honor, a divorce was never filed, only an annulment."

"Present your evidence for this!" he thundered.

Matthew turned to Gilbert, where he sat nervously behind the table. "The defense would like to call Mr. Beilschmidt to the stand," Matthew spoke.

Gilbert stared blankly and confused for a moment, before Matthew gestured to a chair positioned just below the judge's platform. He hesitantly got up and took his seat there. He swore on the bible as he was instructed to and Matthew approached him whispering under his breath, "Don't worry just answer the questions. "

Gilbert swallowed, he liked this courtroom less and less as the debate dragged. It relied on nothing but fancy words and pieces of paper.

"Mr. Beilschmidt," Matthew began. "Can you please explain to the court your relationship with Mrs. Edelstein?"

Gilbert nodded. "Yes, well when I first met her she was a maid, a servant girl working in Mr. Edelstein's service. We were very young when we met, both of our heads full of frivolous ideas. We had only known each other for a little over a year when we decided to elope. I…"

Matthew cut him off. "So at some point in time Mrs. Edelstein was known as Mrs. Beilschmidt? Your lawful wife?"

Gilbert nodded again.

"Can you please explain to the court why you had married this woman?"

Gilbert watched as Roderich's face tightened, with every passing word. "Well I can't really say anything any different then what I said before except that my grandfather had recently passed and I had acquired some property to my name. There was also the gloom of an impending battle. I was a young soldier then and like them all I was afraid that this was the one I wouldn't return from."

"So would you say that you acted rashly when you had taken her as a bride in an elopement?"

"When your young and death is at your door, nothing you do is rational."

"Do you regret it?" Matthew asked.

"No," said Gilbert, shaking his head. "I loved that woman."

"So you lived in your newly inherited property as husband and wife for how long?"

"Three years."

"And what brought about your marriages annulment?"

"Well all elopements are annulled easily," Gilbert answered, growing tired of the questioning.

"What brought it about?" Matthew asked again.

"Her father's will. When we married we had no idea of its existence. He had passed away when she was a young girl, so she was as oblivious to it as I was. But on his deathbed he had promised his daughter's hand to…to Mr. Edelstein…once she turned a certain age."

Matthew, sensing that Gilbert had had enough, finished the debate for him. "And so Mr. Edelstein, seeking to fulfill what he was promised, he reclaimed Mr. Beilschmidts wife by force. Bound by the power of her father's will and a woman's morality, she went along with her deceased father's promise and thus became Mr. Edelstein's wife, even though she was carrying 's child at the time."

Judge Zwingli turned to Edelstein's lawyer. "Any retorts?"

The lawyer looked as if he was about to say something, but Roderich placed a hand on his shoulder, telling him to let this one pass. It was then Gilbert knew that they had one, but the slight curve of a smile on Roderich's face told him to not let his guard down.

"Mr. Williams you make a good case, but currently no evidence exists in this court that proves of Mr. Beilschmidt's elopement. Unless you can present some within…"

"Pardon me you honor," Matthew interrupted. "But we have brought evidence with us." He nodded to Gilbert, who immediately withdrew the locket from his pocket and passed it up to the judge's seat.

"What is this?" Zwingli asked.

"A family heirloom, your honor, passed down from the woman in Mrs. Edelstein's family. She gave it to her daughter a little over a year ago. Within it you will find, several dated portraits."

"And why where these portraits commissioned?" Zwingli asked examining them.

"To commemorate our first year wedding anniversary. I wanted them placed in the locket, but the tinkerer told me that the locket wouldn't be finished till the week of her birthday, so it ended up being her birthday present, several weeks after the anniversary."

There was a silence that seemed to drone on for a time, until Zwingli slammed his gavel against the wood. "The evidence is sufficient. This court finds Mr. Beilschmidt the rightful sire and guardian of the child Sylvia Beilschmidt. Mr. Beilschmidt you may step down from the bench."

Gilbert smiled a small smile of victory. He retook his seat beside Matthew at the edge of the courtroom.

They had won. His daughter was safe in his custody.

"Mr. Edelstein will you please present the will that led to your current marriage," Zwingli spoke after a period of silence. His lawyer passed it up to him on his bench. Several more moments of silence passed as he read through the old articles, the yellowed parchment crinkling with every slight movement.

Zwingli cleared his throat, causing the whole room to jump in surprise. "It says here Mr. Edelstein that her father merely gave his blessing if she wished to wed you when she came of age. If anything, the main point is that when she marries her inheritance serves as her dowry. There is nothing in this document that betroths her to you!"

Gilbert's eyes widened. All this time and it was her choice all along. His fists clenched underneath the table, trembling with anger, as a murderous gaze found Roderich, sitting almost too calmly across the room. The only thing that flashed through Gilbert's mind was that night he had taken her from him. How his soldiers had dragged them out of bed, pulling her from his grasp, and then sending him out into the woods bound blindly to a horse. He hadn't reclaimed her! He had kidnapped her!

Edelstein's lawyer took to his feet. "Your honor, me and my associates have reviewed that document many a time and we have found no such evidence."

" 'When chosen, she shall be wed…,' this document states it rather clearly. Don't you agree Mr. Williams?"

Matthew nodded, before Zwingli continued. "While Mr. Edelstein's name is mentioned several times in this document, I have to say it would be a rather harsh, if not criminal action, if you forced this will on her as you saw fit. Now give me one good reason Mr. Edelstein why I should not annul your marriage right here and now in this courtroom!"

Gilbert felt his heart skip a beat. Was this really happening or was he just dreaming again? He didn't know. He wanted his Ellie back, but the night of the ball and her farewell dance told him that she didn't want him any longer. Either way his daughter would be able to see her mother again. More then once he had woken in the middle of the night, hearing little Sylvia whimpering, sometimes weeping, for her mother.

Edelstein's lawyer was passed a piece of parchment, glanced at it and continued to speak. "Unlike the marriage with Mr. Beilschmidt's, Mr. Edelstein's marriage occurred within the eyes of the law and therefore should be fully legitimate, without question."

"This court has recently been given evidence that proves of the legitimacy of Mr. Beilschmidt's marriage. If any marriage should be considered illegitimate it should be Mr. Edelstein's. Wasn't he the one who married a woman, possibly against her will, who was already married to another man for the past three years?"

"Elopements are easily annulled, your honor."

"Is there proof of an annulment besides Mr. Edelstein's marriage certificate? Because that piece of paper no longer holds any sort of importance in my court!"

Zwingli's anger was growing with every sentence. He reminded himself to thank Matthew for requesting a Swiss judge, they didn't but up with any Austrian nonsense. He chuckled lightly to himself, at the uneasy look on the lawyer's face. Roderich who sat behind his bench was as cold as ice, completely unreadable.

Zwingli took Edelstein's silence as a negative answer, and began to speak. "As says per the will of J.A. Hedervary it will be henceforth the former Miss Hedervary's decision, of who she will take as spouse."

Gilbert's smile widened, but immediately fell when he noticed Roderich scribble something down on a piece of paper and hastily pass it across the bench to his lawyer. The lawyer quickly read it and shouted, "Objection your honor! The house of Edelstein cannot allow the annulment of Mr. Edelstein's marriage being that the current wife is bed ridden with child."

()()()()()()()()()()

Matthew resumed his quiet and timid nature the minute they left the courthouse, mostly because of Gilbert's irate mood, like a rumbling volcano on the very cusp of eruption. He had told Matthew to go back to the inn without him, where they had arranged to meet up with Francis later that evening. But Matthew stayed with Gilbert, afraid of what he might do once he was left alone and mostly due to a warning from Francis himself.

Incidentally, or so Gilbert had claimed, they had run into Roderich as he was having final conversations with his lawyers. Matthew was following behind Gilbert when it happened. They had rounded the corner and there they stood, unsurprised by their presence. Matthew suddenly found himself tripping falling unceremoniously onto the ground, dropping his bag and spilling its vast contents across the floor.

Gilbert didn't stop to help him, instead he approached Edelstein's group without hesitation. As Matthew scrambled about, gathering up his numerous papers he overheard the rough exchange of words between the old rivals.

By the time Matthew had gathered up his things and was standing on his feet again, the two men had parted ways and Gilbert was walking towards him, his face grim and fists clenched at his sides.

"I trust your meeting went well," Matthew sighed, standing up.

"Very," Gilbert breathed out.

"Can I ask what happened?"

"Well you can ask away but either way, tomorrow, I'm gonna kill the bastard."

()()()()()()()()()()

A message arrived via courier later that night specifying the location of the duel, which according to the note was to take place a dawn the following day. Francis, with forth glass of wine in hand, eyed the note curiously, before muttering under his breath, "What has Gilbert gotten himself into now?"

He sighed and made his way back into the room where the friends had dined, and now drank. He saw Gilbert, half emptied pint in hand, sitting across from Tony who had a giggling Sylvia in his lap as he tickled her. Gilbert chuckled at the sight of his daughter's rambunctious laughter.

"Gilbert can I talk to you for a minute?" Francis said solemnly. He eyed the room's other occupants. "Alone," he added.

"And leave my only child alone with Tony? Do you take me for a fool?" He said, righting himself in his chair whilst forgetting the Mr. Williams that sat beside him.

"I'm afraid I must insist."

Gilbert set down his beer and followed Francis into the other room. The second they where alone Francis knocked him against the backside of his head.

"Ow! What was that for?" Gilbert asked, rubbing his head.

"This!" Francis seethed through his teeth, thrusting the note right in front of Gilbert's face.

Gilbert took it and read it. "Well at least he wants to get it over with rather quickly. His promptness on the subject is most astounding," he replied, tinges of sarcasm in his voice.

"What do you think you are doing? We have just walked away from a victory, a victory that once won would have allowed you to raise your daughter and brother in peace and here you go picking fights that could jeopardize everything that we have worked for!" Francis was on the verge of yelling, but his voice remained controlled.

"I couldn't just stand there and let him gloat."

"What could he possibly have to gloat over?"

"El…"

"Don't even say her name!" Francis interjected.

"You weren't at the courthouse, you don't know what happened!"

"Your right, I wasn't. But whatever happened there it is no reason to get yourself shot! You have a child and a young brother to take care of! So for their sake just get over this foolish thing you call pride and think about them for a change!" Francis's voice was stern; more so then he was used to. He had thought the amount of wine the Frenchman had drunk would calm his nerves, but it had done the opposite. It had enhanced them.

Francis had turned to leave to rejoin the party in the other room, when Gilbert suddenly said, "They read the will during the hearing today."

Francis stopped in his tracks. "And what did it say? Anything different from when we last read it?"

"The judge found a loophole. Roderich had no right to do what he did."

Francis turned back to face him. "Let me guess. But despite his error years ago there remains no room for correction." He paused. "She will never be yours again will she?"

Gilbert, sadly, nodded.

Francis sighed heavily. "Well I've said it before and I will say it again. Let her go, Gilbert, you have more then one person relying on you to live to a great and old age."

Francis then turned and left, finally rejoining the party.

_I intend to move on, just let me get a shot at the bastard first. _

()()()()()()()()()()

Gilbert and Tony both rose early before dawn and crept out of the inn, careful not to wake Francis and the rest of their party. Gilbert left a note for Ludwig to keep a close eye on Sylvia until he returned.

The two friends saddled their horses and rode out. Dawn was just breaking when they arrived at the designated field, deep in the woodlands about a mile or so from the Inn. Roderich and his proxy where already there, loading and cleaning their pistols.

Roderich caught sight of Gilbert's horse as it entered the clearing, followed the closely behind by the Spaniard's. The two friends disembarked and readied their pistols.

"I'm surprised you showed Beilschmidt," Roderich sneered.

"Well you know me. I never back down from a fight," Gilbert said with a cocky grin.

"A trait that will get you killed, as it does with all fools. Shall we begin?"

The two approached each other in the center of the clearing, both bearing their pistols at the ready.

"So tell me Edelstein, what did it take?" Gilbert sneered, heart pounding as the two rivals neared each other.

"Pardon?"

"What did it take to get her into bed with you? When I had her all it took was a half glass of wine, a few words of erotica, and a locked door," Gilbert snickered.

"That's none of your business," Roderich replied sternly, teeth clenched.

"Oh I think it is my business, after all, I was the one that married her first. You may have married the woman, but I will always be the one that made her a woman. I even made her a mother near the end," Gilbert cockily boasted.

They stood in the middle of the clearing face to face. Roderich's face was stone. "Twenty paces then shoot."

"Agreed," Gilbert said, as the two turned and began retracing their steps, pistols at the ready. He saw Tony, trying to hide back his chuckles at Gilbert's comments. Yet he was carefully watching Roderich and his proxy, his own pistol at the ready in case one or the other fired too early.

_One. _

_ Two._

_ Three._

_ Four. _

"What did it take exactly? Fancy jewels? A new dress? Have you tried nipping her right ear? Worked like a champ whenever she was mad," he chided with a sneer.

_ Six._

_ Seven._

_ Eight._

_ Nine._

"You know they say that no one truly forgets their first marriage. And she, well she was unforgettable, that lioness," he continued, letting out a low growl.

"Will you shut up, Beilschmidt!" Edelstein finally snapped.

"Do I detect jealousy in your voice?" Gilbert replied, amused. "And here I thought she was another business asset to you. It's possible to love a wife, not an asset. So speaking from experience."

_ Thirteen. _

_ Fourteen. _

_ Fifteen. _

"You know nothing Beilschmidt!

"I know nothing? Well I certainly know when a woman is satisfied or not," he smirked wickedly.

_Nineteen._

_ Twenty. _

The two men turned, Gilbert's pistol was pointed straight at Roderich's chest from across the clearing. Roderich's was pointed elsewhere.

The dark haired man turned, facing his opponent but instead of his pistol pointed at his opponent, the barrel was inside his mouth, his finger trembling above the trigger.

Gilbert was taken by surprise, the cocky smirk had fallen away from his face. He suddenly was reminded of himself years ago in Austria as Roderich's wedding bells chimed.

So he did love her after all.

Gilbert removed his finger from the trigger and was about to lower his gun when he heard Tony shout, "GILBERT DUCK!"

While Gilbert had been observing Roderich, Edelstein's proxy had taken aim at him and was about to fire when Tony had shouted his warning. The proxy fired, missing Gilbert who had ducked out of the way. Tony immediately fired back at the proxy, who missed as the proxy leapt onto his horse, the bullet lodging into a tree.

Gilbert glanced up to find Roderich upon his own horse, his pistol removed from his mouth and aiming at Gilbert, who was currently stumbling to his feet. He heard the pistol go off and Tony pushing him back onto the ground, followed by a yelp of pain. Tony lay on the ground, blood seeping from a bullet wound in his side.

Overcome with rage, Gilbert snatched up his pistol and fired at Roderich. He knew it was a poor aim, but as the two Austrians disappeared into the woods he heard Roderich shout in pain amidst the gallop of the horses hooves.

He immediately turned to Tony, his teeth seething with pain. "Are you alright?"

"It's okay mi amigo. It won't kill me," he breathed, his hands seeping with blood from where the bullet entered near his hip. "I brought bandages…their in the saddle bag."

Gilbert hastily fetched the bandages and wrapped them tightly around Tony's wound, trying to put a stopper on the blood loose.

"Can you ride?"

The Spaniard nodded, as Gilbert helped him onto his horse and then his own, remembering a medic's house they had passed on the way to the clearing.

"Won by trial and won by gun, amigo," Antonio muttered through a haze of pain, chuckling. "But the war in your head isn't over yet."

* * *

><p>AN: What is that? Could it be? It is! It's an update! Long overdue I know and I apologize. Summer has been more hectic then I thought it would be. I'll be moving at the end of the month into my very first apartment (woo!Woo! goodbye parents house!) and after that storm settles I'll be getting ready for school again. I'll keep writing like I always will and from what I've glanced from my notes this story will hopefully be wrapping up by the end of the year, roughly about half a dozen chapters left give or take a few.

First...What do you think of Matthew? Complete honesty please, since Canada is one of my more favorite characters and being one of my more favorite characters I didn't want to make him simply a background character. I made him a lawyer so he had a chance to steal the show for a little bit...and show that Canada does have some balls lol

Second...Gilbert's little cocky montage during the duel scene. Did it make you laugh? Something tells me that Prussia just puts up the cocky, arrogant facade to hide whats really underneath, in this case its a broken heart thats hesitant to let go.

Third...I'm afraid I'm making Spain too one dimensional. I absolutely adore him as a character but besides doting on children and being a loyal friend, I worry that I'm not writing his character to its full potential. But long story short, pointers are greatly appreciated.

Thanks once more for your patience, a lot! I look forward to your thoughts and comments in the near future! You are all wonderful people! Hope you enjoyed!


	20. Chapter 20

**Sweet Silesia**

**Chapter 20**

The pangs of labor were not unfamiliar to Elizaveta, but the timing in the matter seemed wrong. She woke up in the dead of night, her muscles riddled with an overwhelming sense pain. The baby was coming!

_No! _She thought to herself. _This can't be right it's too early!_

But yet the pain persisted, as it did the day Sylvia was being born. She clutched her swollen stomach as she told Patrice to fetch the midwife, more from the pain then concern for the child.

The early morning quickly became the afternoon. The pain came in an endless stream of waves. Small at first, a pinch in the stomach then swelled to great heights causing her to scream till the windows shook. Before collapsing as she fell back against the sheets, breathless with sweat streaming down her forehead.

She would catch whispers from the midwife to Patrice. She didn't need to hear every word to know that something was wrong. She thought of her daughter, despite the pang in her heart, and how sweetly she came into the world with rosy cheeks and bright green eyes. Sylvia came quickly, the labor so brief that Elizaveta needed time for the realization to dawn on her that she had delivered a healthy child and above all, that she was now a mother.

This time was different, the contractions too inconsistent and everything felt forced and painful. All she wanted was to hear a baby's cry, or even the simple coos of the midwife as she pulled the child from her womb. Then she just wanted to fall asleep, to fall asleep and never wake up.

She let her eyes flutter closed, exhaustion riddled throughout her body. She was on the brink of sleep when the pain of a contraction came again, pulling her back to earth and to the waking world.

_Why can't I just go to sleep?_

()()()()()()()()()()

Roderich found little sleep that night. His leg throbbed with pain from the bullet wound, even after it was cleaned and dressed by his physician. The pain in his leg had kept him awake, while Elizaveta slept peacefully in her own chambers. Just as he felt himself start to drift off to sleep, he was awoken again, this time by his butler. Who kindly informed him that Elizaveta had gone into labor.

"Has the midwife been sent for?"

The butler nodded. "She has already arrived, but she says that it will be quite some time before the child arrives."

Roderich nodded as the butler left, leaving him in search of slumber once more.

He awoke the next morning figuring that he hadn't received no more then an hours worth of sleep. He donned his glasses and his butler helped him with his clothes, complete with dress coat.

He stopped by Elizaveta's chambers on his way down to his office, checking up on her. The maids forbid him to enter while the midwife confirmed that the child wouldn't come until the end of the day, if they where lucky.

He caught a glimpse of her through the small opening in the door, lying on her white sheets in silk nightgown. The sheets had been kicked away and rumbled in fits of pain. Her arms rested on her swollen stomach as if she meant to cradle the child within. A whimper escaped her lips, followed by a moan in pain that bordered on a scream, causing the maids and the midwife to shut the door in his face cutting him off from his wife completely.

With a wooden crutch leveraged under his arm he made his way downstairs to his office, where a stack of paperwork awaited him. He sat down in the seat behind his desk. Dipped his quill in a fresh inkpot and sat down to work. He had barely made his way through the first set of pamphlets and business propositions when he set his quill down, unable to concentrate.

His mind was set on the thought of Elizaveta, helpless and swollen, as she was condemned to her bedchambers lost in the midst of labor pains.

She had given Beilschmidt a daughter, was it possible that she would give him a son, an heir to call his own?

()()()()()()()()()()

_His touch was gentle, his lips lightly suckling her neck. She moaned as he shifted his hips against hers, then repeating in gentle ministrations._

_ "Do you love me, Gilbert?" she breathed, his mouth hovering over hers, before devouring it in a kiss. His breath was heavy on his lips, righting himself on his arms above her. Her fingers were still digging into his hips, craving more of him. _

_ "What kind of question is that?" he said through heavy breaths, letting his voice grow deep. _

_ "Do you love me? Because I'll never be able to let you go."_

_ "But you did. Years ago you do did." His warmth suddenly felt cooler, his weight atop her lighter. She held fast, wrapping her arms and legs around him, afraid that he would slip away. _

_ "But your right here, with me, right now!" She suddenly felt tears edge her eyes, a great pain begin to swell in the pit of her stomach. _

_ "Your dreaming Ellie. For years you've been dreaming. I waited for you. I waited for so long. I just can't wait anymore." Despite her grip on him he still seemed to be slipping away, till he was just barely out of her reach, yet she kept reaching for him._

_ "I love you Gilbert," she said with tears in her eyes. _

_ "That's no longer good enough." As he said those words, blood exploded from his chest. Dripping from his suddenly pale and gaunt cheeks. He clutched his chest, more and more blood seeping from the invisible wound in between his fingertips in an endless river of crimson. _

_ She wanted to scream, but no sound escaped her mouth. She only just stared in a mixture of awe and horror. _

_ Gilbert looked from the blood coating his chest and hands to her, his crimson eyes murderous with years of pent up rage and pain. She felt all the breath in her body leave her at the sight, never before so afraid._

_ He opened his mouth, blood spilling forth over his lips and screamed, "IT'S NO LONGER GOOD ENOUGH!"_

()()()()()()()()()()

Elizaveta's eyes shot open in one final scream of pain and horror. Then came the familiar rush of a child being pulled from her womb, causing her to scream. As the rush ended she collapsed back onto her sheets, in a heap of exhaustion and tears, the nightmare still fresh in her mind.

She lay there for some time, listening to the now eerily quiet bedroom. It wasn't a surprise to her that something was wrong. Yet a painful chord struck in her heart when she heard no wail of a newborn, no coos from the midwife or any of the maids still present. Just silence.

She sat up at last, her eyes widening at the sight of the amount of fresh blood splattered from between her legs across the sheets. She glanced at the midwife, who looked from the bundle in her arms to her. Pity and sadness where written across her face.

It took the midwife several minutes to say what everyone else already knew: the child was stillborn.

Elizaveta asked if she could see it, even though she was in no state to be doing anything but resting. Yet the midwife passed her the child, it was light and limp in her arms, barely clad in the cloth the midwife had wrapped it in. It was small, smaller the Sylvia was. More gray instead of rosy, even a little shriveled where some parts of the skin remain underdeveloped.

She saw its resemblance to Roderich in its face though, the long royal nose and pointed dimpled chin. She pictured it a little older with a thick head of dark brown hair, maybe even a pair of spectacles that matched Roderich's. But that was another life, a life that was never meant to happen.

She thought back to many years ago, living with Gilbert and that miscarriage they experienced together. In her heart she knew then that it was boy, a strong son to continue Gilbert's family legacy. She remembered wanting to be the one who would give that to him. She remembered very clearly wanting it more then anything. Then she lost it and with it her faith in Gilbert's affections for her. Only to later feel foolish for thinking Gilbert that kind of man. At the end of the day he only wanted her, a partner, a wife, and a lover. Not a business investment.

She could already picture in her tired mind the look on Roderich's face when he would see what she had given him, after so many years of careful persuasion and investments: Nothing but a cold bed and a dead son.

()()()()()()()()()()()

He still had barely finished any work when his butler entered the office, bearing with him the news of the child. He felt as if someone had made him swallow rocks, ripping his throat and chest open as they sank into the pit of his stomach. His first instinct was to see Elizaveta, partially to have the first-hand knowledge that she was okay, but mostly to find some sort of reassurance in her face.

"She does not wish to see you sir, nor anyone for that matter. The midwife thinks that it is best she be left alone for awhile," the butler answered, once the inquiries where made.

Roderich nodded and the butler departed, only to return minutes later with his usual afternoon tea, before quitting the room for the final time. He had brought the tea earlier then he usually did, knowing that the additional comfort might be appreciated.

Roderich just stared at the teapot. It was just a small piece of rounded and shaped porcelain, if it broke or was chipped it would be useless, yet something that could be easily replaced. A distinct memory of his father placing a high value on it then a family heirloom, and all because it was his favorite teapot and a gift from a former prestigious politician.

It was always easier to put your faith in objects and all forms of material things. They just sat there until they where needed and wouldn't break unless you didn't take care of them properly. Humans were different. Women were extremely different and children, children were a whole different story. The pregnancy was fine yet a child was born dead. Broken even with gentle care.

Money could buy almost anything, but it couldn't buy a son and it definitely couldn't buy a woman's love. The glare in the porcelain seemed to sneer at him. His eyes burned as he fought back the tears. He grabbed the teapot and hurled it across the room, the water splattered against the wall shattering the precious ceramic. He didn't want a teapot; he wanted his son to be alive. He wanted his wife to love him, as she once loved Beilschmidt. But that was impossible.

He pinched the bridge of his nose as his eyes began to tear, throwing his glasses down onto the desk in front of him, hoping they would shatter.

He didn't know how long he cried nor was he willing to admit how long. He found it hard to focus on any work in his office, so he retired early, his stomach empty and growling. Yet somehow he fell asleep. He awoke with his eyes swollen and a newfound bitterness in his heart.

The butler brought him breakfast yet he did not eat. He reached for his glasses at the bedside table only to remember he had left them in his office the night before. He didn't care; he didn't feel like working today. It all just seemed pointless now. Why provide for a family when there was none?

The butler procured some articles of clothing from the dresser, as he did every morning. Roderich listened, bowed his head and said, "I have no wish to conduct any business today."

"I understand, sir. But your guest has arrived today for the meeting you had scheduled several weeks ago."

"Tell him to reschedule. I'm not feeling well," he replied, sitting on the edge of his bed.

"I did, sir. He refused, and insisted that the dealings be done with so he can return to Russia and conduct this nasty business of war."

Roderich sighed. "Fine, lets just pray he arrives late," he said standing up.

"Actually sir, General Braginski is already here."

()()()()()()()()()()

The parlor was fresh with the crisp morning sunlight, and sitting within one of the room's large windows sat a sunflower standing tall and proud within the rays of golden light. The guest, a tall and domineering man, couldn't help but admire it, his large and brutish hands delicately flicking the small yellow petals in amusement.

The parlor door swung open on the other side of the room and Roderich entered in a freshly pressed waistcoat and suit. "General Braginski!" he greeted the tall man, an unhealthy but believable smile decorating his cheeks. "I trust your journey was a pleasant one?" He walked with a slight limp in his injured leg, the butler insisted that he use his crutch but Roderich refused, the pain in his leg a fresh awakening in his hardened heart.

Braginski smiled, turning from the sunflower and taking a seat in one of the parlor chairs. "It was fine, Herr Edelstein. I heard you are unwell so if you would like to skip the pleasantries I would like to talk business. "

Roderich nodded, taking a seat in the parlor chair opposite the general. " I trust you and your superiors are pleased with our shipment of artillery?"

"Yes, very pleased indeed," he said still smiling. There was something unnerving about the general's smile that made Roderich twinge. The butler entered with a tea tray for the two. He poured the steaming water into its separate cups and departed without so much as a word. Roderich could sense that the general's presence was unnerving even on his staff, by the way his usually stoic butler fluttered in and out of the room in a hurry and as quickly as possible.

"You are about to engage in war with our brother country. May I ask why?"

"If you have to ask I wonder how informed you really are," the general pondered.

"I'm a businessman. I conduct business and occasionally affairs of state. The art of war, however, remains lost on me. But nevertheless I do not wish to imply that the Russian army steeps low enough to take requests from a petty businessman."

Braginski removed the cup of steaming tea from the tray, looking ever so small and delicate in his large and muscular hands. He sipped it and in the most casual if not pleasing voice said, "The German states, they are a threat, both to my people and to our ideals. We just want to give the world a push in the right direction. Yet they see our way of life as a threat and they seek to end it. If that is not reason enough to fight then I don't know what is."

Roderich procured his own cup of tea and mixed in a cube of sugar, but was hesitant to drink it. His stomach still had no taste for any kind of nourishment. "The Germans are atrocious aren't they? They are Austria's young and idiot brother that they are hesitant to acknowledge relation. I'm not saying that purely because we are no longer allies. Tell me, what do you know of their general?"

"Beilschmidt? He seems atrocious but talented. I look forward to facing him in battle," he replied sipping his tea, shadows and sunlight dancing across his face.

"He's a clever man. I would not underestimate him. I did once and he left me a scar to remember by stupidity by," Roderich said through a clenched jaw.

"I won't. I'm not a fool."

"I never said you where."

"And I never accused you of saying so."

Roderich cautiously sipped his tea. "Nevertheless Beilschmidt owes me a debt and if you could find a way to make him pay, then a fair and very negotiable price would be in it for you."

"I'm not doing this for money. Bu don't fret, an enemy of my enemy is a friend, da?"

"You do not know what kind of man he is. Would you allow him to claim victory in this upcoming war?"

"Not if you helped me," a small mischievous smile gracing his lips.

"I'm a man of my word, with an infinite amount of wealth and resources at my disposal. All you have to do is name it."

The Russian set down his tea, having lost interest in it, before crossing his legs and leaning back in the parlor chair, his violet eyes where intrigued yet where continuously pondering something. "Mr. Edelstein if it's that sort of business you wish to discuss, I suggest we discuss it over a drink."

Roderich glanced out the parlor window, the sun still climbing in the blue sky. "It is not even noon yet, General."

"You will quickly find that war, Mr. Edelstein, adheres to no time table."

Roderich stood from his chair, "Then I suggest we move this conversation to a more secluded setting."

He turned to leave, saying, "I'll have my butler fetch the bourbon glasses," as Braginiski followed him from the room.

Out of the corner of his eye, Roderich caught the most disturbing glance of a bruised and brown sunflower petal floating to the floor.

* * *

><p>AN: Well here is chapter 20! Not gonna lie was kinda a bitch to write, had to delve deeper into Roderich's character which I naively realized I had never given much thought before this. There was a lot of re-writing and advice asking from friends. Chp21 is already in the works, so keep your eyes peeled for that in the future, but until then enjoy and let me know what you think!

Love you all and thanks!


	21. Chapter 21

**Sweet Silesia **

**Chapter 21**

_Elizaveta was fast asleep when he came home that night. She was curled up comfortably in her sheets and blankets, when she felt strong and familiar hands on her, pulling her from her slumber. Her eyes flickered open and with a yawn she muttered," Gil…is that you?"_

_He bent over and kissed her lips, drinking her in. She felt his desperation, his need for her, even with the scent of the battlefield still fresh on him. She sat up and wrapped her arms around him, relieved that he had made it home safely again. _

_He squeezed her tightly, breathing her in. "I missed you," he whispered as she fingered the wet ends of his hair. His collarbone still held small droplets of water on the surface of his skin, as if he had quickly washed himself before coming up to their bedroom. Before coming up to be with her, to have her at the most basic and primal need a man could ever have. _

_She felt his teeth nip her neck and ear. He wanted her, badly. "Ellie?" he whispered again his hands beginning to grasp her hips and waist. _

_The first nights back from the battlefield, from war, where always a given for them. Yet he always asked, sensing her fear and concern, whenever he allowed his primal hunger and need to consume him on nights such as these. Despite the tiredness in her eyes and the initial concern in her heart she placed her hands on either side of his head and guiding his lips toward hers._

_He wasted no time removing his clothes and crawling onto the bed. Balancing himself on his knees and pulling his Ellie, still in her nightdress, into his arms. He kissed her fiercely, while she tried to keep up with him in his ministrations. _

_She pulled away for a few brief moments, pivoting on her knees trying to lead him to the head of the bed. Gil was far too anxious and instead grabbed her hips and pulled her buttocks to his waist. His hands briefly grazed under her nightgown, feeling the smooth roundness of her skin. She sat up with her back against his chest, his fingers exploring her. _

_"Gil what are you…Aah!" she nearly screamed, mostly out of surprise, as he filled her with himself. Until now she was not aware that this was possible, but she hadn't been with any other man but Gilbert and even then they had only been married for a several months. _

_ He guided her hips up and down, back and forth, resonating from the strong and steady pulse of his own hips. She balanced on her knees for some time, until the muscles in her thighs began to burn and she put her hands down in front of her. Her tired mind had no thoughts on the matter, yet she found herself moaning every so often, causing Gilbert to quicken his beats and hasten the sound of flesh smacking against flesh. _

_She found this position humiliating, if not uncomfortable, despite her moans. To her relief he stopped and flipped her over onto her back, nearly ripping her nightgown off, before engulfing her with his warmth and lust. His thrusts quickening and his lips everywhere sucking the flesh of her neck till dark spots appeared._

_ She bit her lip, trying to stifle a whimper. A list of justifications, reasons for his behavior, swirling about in her mind. She took it as a symbol of his chastity, knowing that men at war had the privilege of indulging themselves at local brothels. The understanding of his need to feel alive again after coming so close to death one too many times. Above all, he simply missed her. _

_More then once she had found herself surprised whenever he returned. She had found his grip too tight, leaving bruises that would yellow by the morning. Found herself on her knees in more ways then she thought possible. It wasn't until after the first one or two occurrences that she understood. Every man had a dark side, and this was Gilbert's. _

_It was only on nights like these that she witnessed it: the deadness in his eyes and the brutality in his touch. Yet he never raised a hand to hurt her in any way. The morning after he would hold her in a gentle embrace, the light and sincerity once more returned to his eyes, and kiss the yellowing bruises on her shoulders and arms. Brushing her hair out of her face he would kiss her, whispering apologies and how much he loved her. And every time, whether or not it was justified she would forgive him because she loved him and knew that if it wasn't her it would have been someone else to feel his wrath, someone who wasn't as forgiving. _

()()()()()()()()()()

He was never that fond of cigars, he only lit one up or held one between his teeth when his superiors had them passed around to their officers. He did the same thing with imported whiskey, sipping the heavy, burning liquid while he secretly yearned for a tall glass of beer or Jager.

"Beilschmidt!" his superior barked in greeting entering the room, hobbling heavily on his cane. "How fares my best commander?!"

Gilbert instantly snapped into a salute, the unlit cigar now hanging from in between his teeth. "Your commander has been faring sir," he replied, timidly removing the cigar.

"How is that little girl of yours?" he asked, settling himself down in his plush chair.

"Sylvia is doing well. She is still very young…still doesn't quite understand why I had to leave." His eyes became downcast, thinking of his daughter's pitiful pout as he tried to explain that he had to go away for a time. No promise of return seemed to matter to her, only the fear of absence and abandonment plagued her young mind.

The man sitting procured a cigar and lit it, puffing it several times before eyeing Beilschmidt across the room and said, "It seems you yourself do not understand why you were called to Berlin?"

"I know that its war, I've been in this trade long enough to know that. Lately I've just been asking myself why? Why are we all fighting anyway?"

"Territory…politics…pride…is a reason ever needed?" He said, puffing his cigar between words and heavy breaths. "War is a natural process of humanity, its simple, its only natural for us violent creatures. Some men like us soldiers have learned to accept that fact, we even go as far as making a living off of it. Other men who refuse to accept it, call themselves pious men, and spend their days praying to a faceless deity for forgiveness that they may or may not be worthy of."

"That's not what the papers print when we need new recruits to march off to war," Gilbert said solemnly, finally placing the cigar on the table uninterested in the rolled tobacco.

"Yet you signed up when you were a young and naïve lad when those papers littered the streets. Either way you're old and experienced enough to know that by now," he said nonchalantly, puffing on his cigar again.

For the first time in his life, Gilbert felt uncomfortable in his Prussian blue uniform. The belt suddenly felt too tight, and the collar too snug around his throat. Yet his commander continued as if it meant nothing. "As soon as the frost thaws you and your men will be marching on Russia, in the hopes of reclaiming territory that was stolen from one of our past emperors."

"Which he in his greatness had reclaimed from them," Gilbert interrupted, under his breath. His commander went on to explain the God-given purpose in such a military feat. The only thing Gilbert could think about was Sylvia, his little girl that he made promises too and wished he could keep. Yet here he was, receiving orders for a sudden march, as sudden and fickle as the warmth of the sun in the spring.

What point was there in returning home if he would have to leave so soon? The thought didn't break his heart; it would break Sylvia's.

"Pardon me sir," he interrupted, this time louder, sitting up straight in his chair. "But I must ask…why?"

"Why? You're asking me why?"

"I know you are not overly fond of being questioned, but I felt that it was time for a change," he remarked, a small smirk gracing his cheek.

"Marching orders!" He snarled between the teeth that clenched the cigar. "We have soldiers that must march by spring. Soldiers that must learn the taste of battle. We have boys that must become men. And you sir…" He pointed a fat finger at Gilbert as if to pass a sentence. "You will lead them. You have followed and as your reward you will lead."

"Even if it's a death march?" He didn't have to look at the battle plans to know that any march that deep into Russian territory would be suicide, given the current political agenda.

"It's all part of being a soldier, a soldier you are, and soldiers you will make of these boys."

It was not long after that he was dismissed from the office. He had bitten his tongue, wishing he had the courage to say the words: "_Then I don't want to be a soldier anymore_"

Years of his life it had cursed him, taking him from the sanctity of home, his brother, wife, and daughter. He hated the man that it had made him, so full of fear that it could only appear as anger and hate.

He was no longer needed in the city and would not put up with another moment of staying there. He gave his orders to his lieutenant and departed that very evening, racing off on his horse to home. For what was probably the final time to say goodbye.

()()()()()()()()()()

He wiped the drips of the Jager from the corners of his lips regretting the last mouthful he poured down his throat. He set the empty glass aside and picked up his quill, re-inked it in the ink pot then signed his name in his best handwriting on the document that read: _Final Will and Testament_. There it was, his entire life, summarized down into two brief pieces of parchment.

The bulk of everything was to go to Ludwig, the house along with its meager property and valuables. That simple request only took up half the first page. The remainder was a modest retirement set aside for Hilga, if she should choose to take it or remain within the family's employ, and the other portion was a small trust, a dowry for little Sylvia for when she comes of age.

"Bit morbid isn't it?" Ludwig said suddenly. Gilbert jumped in his seat, unaware Ludwig was standing right behind him.

"Ludwig! How many times do I have to tell you not to sneak up on people like that?!"

"A few more times perhaps." He took a seat across from Gilbert, closer to the fire. "Why are you writing your Will?"

"A Precaution, Ludwig."

"Why? You've marched off to war before but you've never written one of those before."

"This time is different Luddy." He paused, folding the pieces of parchment and sealing them with his wax crest. "Normally I never march into a battle that cannot be won or into a war without objective and purpose. But this time…"

"It shouldn't be that difficult Bruder!" Ludwig interjected, "Soldiers fight for glory or even a simple modest living. You always fought as an escape, because secretly you crave death, you yearn for it and even go as far as to search for it on the battlefield. I've seen this one too many times and you've prided yourself on being able to tease it for so long. So stop acting like this is something new! So if you think you really are going to die out there then be thankful! You've finally gotten your wish!"

Ludwig let out a 'humph' and stormed out of the room, waiting until the door closed behind him to finally wipe the tears from his eyes.

Gilbert, slightly shocked from his brother's outburst took another drink of Jager and placed the completed Will in his desk drawer, before heading upstairs. He checked on Sylvia, who slept contently in her room.

Then he wandered into his own bedroom that didn't feel like his own bedroom. Under the translucent glow of the moon, he stood in the middle of the solid wooden plank floorboards and felt like an outsider, a foreigner in his own home. He didn't know how long he stood there alone in the nighttime silence, the bottle of Jager still in his hand, when he realized Ludwig was right. Ever since Ellie left a part of him had craved death and now with his death finally looming on the horizon, a gut wrenching realization told him that he wasn't ready to face the abyss.

* * *

><p>AN: You won't believe it but I'm back and ready to finish this story! Consider it a new years resolution (a belated one at that). Hope this chapter is satisfactory considering the incredibly long hiatus I put you guys through! But please by all means let me know what you think, where do you think this will go, or even what you would like to see happen! I'm a little desperate for feedback at this point but if this story can get over a hundred reviews I'll try and update before Valentines Day! Until then I'll be waiting! Love you all!


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